neither the pictures you took nor my hangover explain why there are skittles in my shoe
you threw up in the bushes next to the ABC store and kept saying "you're home, blueberry vodka, you're home!"
While you were puking in the ocean I was rubbing your back saying "Just give it back to Mother Earth".
just went back to the bar and asked if they found a shoe last night.
After a certain blood-alcohol level, the dog is in charge.
The barista asked if I wanted my drink wet or dry, but all that came to mind was farts. You have ruined me.
You need a Jiminy Cricket, but for sexual decisions.
I think my staff loses a little bit of respect for me every time you're in town. I may have to puke at work ...again.
If you go to Tinseltown tonight. First bathroom on the left, second stall. Avoid. It's still coming to terms with what I did to it.
And now I have a massive dip in and a Bloody Mary that would catch on fire if you put a flame close to it, with no pants on... At 8:15Am. Being single is pretty legit
Sunday mornings are confusing. Like. I can't decide if I want to go for a run or start drinking
Nothing more ironic than raw dogging some random Asian hottie last night and then doing the walk of shame home from her place mixed in with the participants of the AIDS walk
I really need to get a comfy set of masturbating shoes
You told me that you couldn't come over because you felt like you were gonna die and that houses eat you when you die, and my house couldn't eat you because your house would be jealous. That's when I knew to take the bowl away from you.
My favorite part was making you pull out your lucky steelers vibrator and show it to jerome bettis at the bar
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