There was an extended period of my adolescent life where my friends and I would get high, drive around in my minivan listening exclusively to the wu tang clan, and intentionally crash into snowbanks
you opened the fridge, pissed on the food, fell over, then threw up on yourself. thats whats all over the kitchen.
Party at my house. Liquor pinata. Your presence is required.
After throwing up in a tequila bottle on my nightstand (still not sure how she did that) she asked if she could slip into something more comfortable.
Are we playing "how much awkwardness can we fit in the final 29 hours of 2011"?
yes yes we are. Go do something with super glue. i don't want to win.
We're all getting matching jack daniels tattoos. We're gonna be an alcoholic gang of awesome.
I am 100% planning on being drunk on Wednesday. This is America. Work or no work.
How do I go about messaging a girl on a dating site whose little sister I've had a three some with...?
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
But you can't tell me I give the best blow jobs and then not break up with your girlfriend who has fucking TMJ! Come on!
You came down the stairs dressed as winnie the pooh and kicking cups off the table and out of people's hands
If you fall asleep, my vagina and I will never forgive you.
She unfriended me on Facebook after I responded to her long love note with #demtittesdoe. Jager is the goddamned devil.
Of course that's what I'm wearing. I need to find a beard to mount and ride STAT.
Sex in the backyard? Check.
Randomize
