It's hipsters with their motorcycle cop mustaches, moccasins, douchey irony, and department stores to supply their independent conformity
Something's gotta give!
I made the bartender pinky promise me there was still vodka in my drinks.
you were just eating all his cookies and kept mumbling "them crumblies" when the crumbs got on your shirt.
I'm puking to John Mayor, save me. Or at least change it to somethong beyyt
remind me again why lemons and alcohol in the crock pot is a bad idea?
At one point in time, he cried and said I didn't appreciate him.
im shotgunning beers in the kitchen. alone. the cat is judging me.
MY TWIN SISTER IS ENGAGED. I REPEAT, MY SCREW UP OF A SISTER IS ENGAGED. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
I'll be there in 20 with vodka.
I feel like Jeremy snapchattong while we're fucking is a perfect example of our generation..
So I'm texting her. How do I steer the conversation toward "I honestly would be fine never seeing you again"?
How many nights in 2015 can we have no one get injured, run away crying, or get into a brawl?
my grandpa paid for my boob job but he just doesn't know it.
So it's official the pockets of my work apron exist solely for the purpose of secretly flipping off asshole customers and not losing my job.
At one point I believe I was despencing medical advice while wearing a sombrero and a hulk hand
whole 5th of capt = waking up in the shower after 2 hours and the whole house asking why i'm STILL in a towel. and me having nothing to say
Randomize
