So then I told him that only a restaurant managed by a florida fan could run out of ketchup
I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
Moral of the story: don't get pregs or your chances in the beer league are over
Well, I just hope you know I had your best interests at heart when I put your sandwich down my pants.
Stumbled into class and into a desk. When I fell my bottle broke in my backpack. I had to leave there was vodka everywhere.
I maybe late, he's in a peeing contest with the neighbor's dog. Currently he's in the lead.
I found a pair a guys underwear in my purse that has a British flag on it and says and I quote "British beef" what.the.fuck.
mate, my mother watched me threw up out of my nose wearing only a g-string.
I am currently watching him baptize himself in a baby pool with a handle of belvedere while wearing a coral dress.
I want to have sex with him.
It might have taken me 30 minutes but I finally finished the toast I made. That hungover.
I swear to god little potato creatures live inside Belvedere bottles and claw at your throat as you swallow shots.
This weekend I forgot a cup, so I drank my wine out of a Pringles can. So classy. You would have been so proud.
Yeah. I'm so over work, that I'm not even satisfied pretending to work anymore. I just flat out want to go home. Fuck this job
I don't want to be "that guy" but I may have accidentally sent a dick pic to your mom
Does sweetest day count when you're spending it with your fuck buddy, high and eating Pizza Hut?
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