First of all...stop making excuses. Second of all...Fuck the surgeon generals warning
I hid my booze in my old Sesame Street lunch box. Big Bird might be disappointed, but I feel Oscar the Grouch would approve.
i'm sick of coming in second next to bourbon.
I'm like the Mother Theresa of booty calls.
New development. Drinking at work is so easy and awesome I might have to do it everyday.
Not sure if you carved a butthole or vagina in that pumpkin but that didn't stop high Phil from mounting. My study group is horrified.
you were wearing a pair of wings and handing out McDonalds apple pies, if anyone refers to you as the "Rave Fairy" you now know why.
THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH.
If she's steering anything, it's a religious boat of crazy. Destination: Iceberg.
He went 'unicorn hunting' and lost a fight with a fence. That's how he ended up in the ER.
I'm having salsa con queso and a leftover half-drank/flat red bull for breakfast. Nothing you propose doing today would be a downgrade.
I lost my bar virginty and made out with a dwarf. It was a good night
I'm not sure. But he has a pet sugar glider. So, points either way
As long as that's not his name for his dick.
i swear i was one second from getting his number and then the shrooms kicked in
I accidentally made jungle juice last night.
I was just told that I'm the Sherlock Holmes of drunken sex. I'll take it.
Randomize
