Just finished texting the 27th male name in my phone that i don't recognize. none of them were the hott kid i made out with last night. the search continues.
complete strangers are now referring to me as 'the bourbon guy.' i can live with this.
this will be a night to untag.
All we did was argue about ponys and drug dealers
Then she yelled something like "YOU HAVE SO MANY FORKS!" before collapsing on the floor
I still don't know why you took that job... it sounds miserable
not having any beer money sounds even more miserable
Remember that pineapple I soaked in vodka last month? Just found it- nothing is growing on it? Think it's safe?
What if our hands were octopus tentacles?
You're an idiot.
Although I feel like awkward kinda describes your entire sexual history...
Oh and someone pissed in my shoes, so I'll let you figure that out.
What's it called where you go to the stripclub with two guys that have both gone down on you...
Tuesday
All you had to say was "damn dude that looks fun, I miss ice fishing." But you sent a picture of poop. Classy
Today, my weed came in a pokéball. I officially love my dealer.
you're welcome to come here, except my beds from ikea so it's more unstable than i am
its like my accent is a device for a 100% chance of sex every time i leave the apartment. i love being english in this country.
Randomize
