Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
She really thought E.D. was a sexually position.
He was at the bottom of the stairs showering himself with the popcorn, then eating a few handfuls and running around.
The best thing about my promotion is that I now have an office with a door. I can take my naps in peace instead of leaning my head against the stall in the bathroom.
I can't believe they pay you six figures. I hate you.
Bren left me with a lovely parting gift. Newfouund alcoholism. I'm on the kitchen floor, hugging a bottle of vodka. It's my only friend now.
I'm not sure that our 12-years-ago-high-school-"relationship," and 179 texts in the last 4 hours is gonna be enough to squeeze a naked smartphone picture of me. I'm gonna need some chicken wings or Makers Mark before that starts happening.
FYI, Sammie and I made the executive decision that we're getting a pet octopus and keeping it in the ballpit. Just thought you should know.
Nothing says "I mean business" like using a cart at the liquor store.
I was told my cock was a religious experience.
My nipple piercings are like the guardrails, that's why they feel so safe.
I can measure my amount of vomit in solo cups.
There is a BIG difference between doing coke and getting peed on and getting peed on FOR coke
In reference to the club we were headed to our cab driver told us about the time he had sex with a woman on the dance floor there. And what do you know, they're celebrating their 22 marriage anniversary together this year! True love does exist!
THERES A BEAVER CHASING ME, ANGRY BEAVERS IS FUCKING REAL DUDE
I just saw a woman give her infant whiskey tits. About ten minutes ago she was doing shots, and now she's breast feeding. Whiskey. Tits.
Randomize
