I just pulled a feather out of my vagina.
I am not joking.
We each get one free throw up cleaning, no questions asked.
they just tried to tell me they weren't big into drugs. A) it was the 70's. B) I've seen the pictures.
Last night I dreamed I was having gay sex in prison. That's the last time we go to theme night at the club.
What is wrong with this kid? He'll take ecstasy but won't take dayquil?
That sucks. I just talked to a telemarketer for 15 minutes about CSI: Miami and weed.
Im blasting "Fat Bottom Girls" as loud as humanely possible in attempts that old ladies doing water aerobics will take the hint and get the fuck out of the pool.
Don't pretend like we're functional. We're gonna discuss this drunkenly via text the way serious conversations should take place.
The fact that he just came out makes his Lent commitment to give up gay sex so much more meaningful now.
He called it restless penis syndrome. I call it cheating.
This is a great bar, except you can't even randomly burst into song without them assuming you're drunk and cutting you off.
You came out of your room naked under your open robe with a mouth full of brownie on a stick and grabbed a fistful of fruit loops and shoved them into your already full mouth.
Apparently I handcuffed myself to the dishwasher...
I’m vetoing meatball margaritas right out the gate. We can’t have people throwing up again!
I often wonder if we’re introverted extroverts, but I don’t think so. I think we’re just easily tired scumbags
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