I couldn't walk, so he carried me all the way home; and then I told him that I wasn't drunk enough to fuck him. Poor kid.
I'm tangled in a fishing net down at the harbor. This has nothing to do with Captain Morgan. Bring wirecutters.
Jesus just hopped over the fence with a rack of coors. How's your Halloween?
thank god we only have to drink eggnog and rum once a year. It taste like shit.
Someone painted a weed leaf on my leg with red paint. Or blood. I hope paint.
Holy fuck just found a used tampon in the leg of my pants. it's not paint. It's. Not. Paint.
I just put bacon on a thin mint and enjoyed the shit out of it. I better not be fucking pregnant.
Life is too short to have fake orgasms.
oh yeah, there may or may not be a large boa loose in the house when you get home.
my binge eating and her being stoned all the time has reduced us to a bowl of chinese candies, frozen bacon and a stick of butter, we do however have enough alcohol to start our own liquor store.
Tell me about it. Running across highways take alot outta ya. When he found out, he was all "concerned" about it.
Why is it that when I sustain a serious injury people are more concerned with my level of inebriation than my personal safety?
I'm not sure when I will get off this toilet at work but it's not looking promising
Did I try to sell your body for chicken tenders last night?
Don't get mad at me now, you have my car and all the doughnuts
Turns out the grown up version of seeing your teacher shopping is seeing your therapist is on tinder
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