She described it as "a squirrel being hit by a hurricane"
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
Come down. Bring Jorts. We're getting ready for this tricycle race like champions.
Couldn't find any balloons, so we're doing whippets out of condoms. Being a ho has its benefits.
Based off of the soaking wet clothes/towels/rugs, Eiffel Tower statue and monkey in the bathtub, I'm going to assume drunk me took a bath.
Are you really alive right now?
yeah but think of how much more hungover we'd be if we didn't steal those cookies
I was trying to get everyone to go to the bar but I puked on my hands, so nobody took me seriously.
Directions to your booty call: go down the part of Route 66 that has all the car dealerships, motels and bad decisions, go past the Christian college and turn left at the Children's Center.
I give up. I can't handle that class sober any longer. I have an army of whiskey shooters for the next three weeks. Wish me luck.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
The fact that it neither of us came up with the reason of "it's morally and ethically wrong" speaks volumes about this relationship
I'm developing all these feelings it's disgusting.
Consider yourself lucky. If I ever run into my ex, all I'll be able to think is, "I let you pee on me and lead me around on a leash."
The night went downhill somewhere between the time I was triple fisting smirnoff and when I was throwing up in the yard in nothing but my bra while he talk to me about mashed potatoes
Divorce can be hard, but look on the bright side. Your soon to be ex raved about your dick and I’m great with hard things ;-)
Randomize
