There's a walmart bag of my vomit outside my front door. I just really need someone to appreciate that with me.
im the poster child for why you shouldnt play beer pong with wine.
Well I woke up with a note on me reading Dear Passed Out Girl, and ending with why I shouldn't drink so much. Damn Tequilla.
she just pulled a hulk hogan to make her point. no idea how it helped
I would makeout with my roommate, but im not drunk enough and she doesnt like bacon fat
I mean, yeah, she was cheating on me but I've been fucking her brother. My secret relationship trumps her secret relationship.
It feels like there's puke trying to explode out of me from behind my eyeballs.
OH MY GOD I JUST WANT TO GO HOME AND FART ALL NIGHT.
This morning I got out of bed 4 HOURS LATE, made eggs with a plastic beach shovel, and then ate them using pens like chopsticks in my bed with my turtle. Obviously, I am not in the mood to be proactive with my life today...
Realized it was likely to be cursed, didn't want my own Johnson magically turning into some sort of fire breathing reptile and eating me
That is an interesting fear as well as image
Definitely got a blow job in Charles Schwab's bed last night.
I love my job.
I may or may not have puked in the ladies room. Now I get to convince my client to go to substance abuse treatment. Oh, the irony.
Why is there a business card for people who need bail bonds in my wallet...
Also I know now I was meant to be a comedian. Had both arresting officers laughing.
This whole thing is fucking bullshit. I should be wasting all my hard-earned money at Planet Con this weekend but NOOOOOOOOO. Now I'll never get Roy Thomas to sign my comic
Randomize
