apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
I am coming home for anal
* a nap*
The producers of Marley and Me owe me about $5 million. That's the dollar amount of embarrassment compensation required for making a 24-year-old male cry publicly on an airplane while sitting in the middle seat between a gorgeous babe and a guy with a do-rag
we were going to warn you, but we veto-ed that idea somewhere between "this is the stupidest thing we've ever done" and "let's order a pizza"
my boobs are worth more now than the blue book value of my car.
Just cause I'm shitfaced wasted every night waking up in random beds all over Manhattan does not mean I'm a mess.
Truth. Respect the hustle.
Sad fact: I'm doing that thing where I'm bored so I give myself Princess Leia hair and drink alcohol.
I bet yours is gonna be filled with secret innuendo.
secret innuendo and cervical punches to the world.
We bought only tequila and Twister. And you're STILL surprised you got pregnant?
all I'm saying is if you're gonna fuck a fat chick do it in a pool it's like zero gravity or something
how did you graduate high school
Also, can next Friday be Long Underwear Friday instead of Jockstrap Friday? Because I'm about to cough up a testicle.
I am so sorry. Not sure for what, but whatever I did last night probably merits an apology, so I'm covering my bases.
My potted cactus died. I am literally less nurturing than the desert.
It's the Ides of March, motherfucker. That means we're supposed to daydrink, right?
If you can't trust the person at the taco cabana drive thru, who can you trust?!
Randomize
