I just told my doc I would like to talk about my drinking problem, but that it would probably get in the way of my weekend plans.
it was like the sexual equivalent of when Wilson fell off the raft and floated away
I farted on Jack's balls last night. He got pissed and walked away cause he knew it was on purpose. I couldn't hold it in anymore.
So some guy at the party is convinced I'm Edward Cullen. He keeps calling me "Twilight" and following me around with a stake. I'm concerned.
i don't even want to say how many boners i've caused this week
I drove to Chevron at noon and the Hatian lady goes "Oh, nothing to drink yet white boy?"
Well, i'm not sure how that works so i wish both you and your vagina luck on your voyage.
There was a stripper pole on the party bus. Was being past tense because some fat chick somehow tore it from the ceiling while grinding
Sober me does NOT approve of what went on in my pants last night.
I don't know what to tell you, usually I would just ask if they'd like to meet the captain. If you can't get laid it's your problem.
If I got to choose how I die, it would be in an Olympic sized pool of gin and tonic.
I found my limit. I will not, in fact, blow my 78 year old professor for an A in his class.
She's really sweet and cute, but when she drinks, she becomes way too proud of her bush.
It's a sad night when one of your friend texts you that she's going on a date with someone you know and then invites you to maybe have a drink after
if i ever get to the point where i am moaning when i pee, please do the honorable thing and kill me.
Randomize
