Oh just a soda. I'm "driving"
He fucking owes me dinner after I gave him head under the deck behind the bar.
ok what kind of idiot turns down casual afternoon sex?
PS- did you die? If you did just text "dead" to me, so that I know.
he's a bartender at a gay strip club. maybe he can work his magic. with getting u in, not gay magic.
They had a "who can aim further away from the toilet" contest. I'm now washing piss off my ceiling.
Would a ten year old streaker be inappropriate?
That's the stuff legends are made of
Well obviously when I get drunk my intelligence level surpasses yours and that's why you can't understand me.
I might not remember all of last night but I clearly remember the part where I humped the mailbox.
I feel like I should be doing a victory lap around my house to the rocky music, or zapping and smiting people with my mystic wizard powers
As a general rule of thumb, I don't call until the claw marks have healed.
The alcohol tastes like we did a beer run at the nail salon
And you said I'm not athletic, I rubbed one out with my sports band on, it's the same as walking 1/4 mile.
I'm drunk. And I'm alone. Eating chicken fingers in my underwear. I'd say life is grand.
Spencer just told me I got home and was opening beers with my teeth and trying to make pot butter
Randomize
