Since you didn't call me back last night, I can only assume that in 9 months you're going to have a child that I'm going to refer to as, "Daddy's little mistake in Miami."
He just got home drunk. He ate 5 snack cakes, said Little Debbie's his bitch, went upstairs and fell asleep.
I mean, I'm all about sharing, but when he tells me about his wet dreams about Oprah, I think it's taking it too far.
I'm still not walking right. We need some boundaries for "drink-or-dare"...
the back of my hand read, "say no to drugs." my palm read, "say yes to shots." when the fuck did I write that?
That place is a DUI and an STD waiting to happen. I think I'll pass.
Full contact beer pong was definitely not my best idea.
Who would've thought that Monopoly night would've ended with some girl peeing on the couch.
So hungover im counting my own breaths to make sure im not dead. The odds hurt.
Don't blame me. My vagina leads me astray.
I panicked i brought burritos. Funeral burritos
So vagazzling was a success
There's no sexy way to moan the name Ernest. Or Ernie. This relationship is fucked
I just had a flashback to us shaking up Gatorade mix and then inhaling it in your kitchen because it was funny. Now I can't stop laughing in work because that is the stupidest shit.
Started mixing booze directly into the 2 liters and carrying them around. Mixing less often, and now kind of weightlifting,so double effecient.
Randomize
