I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
Only at my house do scrabble games turn into fist fights. I won though... the fight not the board game.
and apparently i was drunk enough to follow up with "I'd let me touch your boobs" ... not my best line.
Did Kevin really put his bar tab under the name Hercules last night?
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I have a plus one for the Blackout Express, should I pen in your name?
anyone who says having children is the best experience of their life obviously has never seen a vending machine carry vodka in Capri sun pouches.
I dunno. Last time I went there I had got sexually propositioned by a Belgian prince.
He cheated on me in real life. I can cheat at words with friends.
You know you're baked when you feel your throat closing up from an allergic reaction to the pecans in the cookie you're eating but you keep eating the damn cookie.
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I just watched Matt try to put on a pillowcase thinking it was a t-shirt.
I just spent a solid 3 minutes trying to figure out how to send a smell through my phone
I'm more worried that you thought licking a pole on Bourbon street would turn me on
Before getting out of the car, she said "Thanks for getting me off." I like how polite she is.
You know you were really drunk last night when you woke up and had someone else's jacket with their car keys and medical marijuana that you wore home from the bar and no sign of your actual jacket.
I balled in the shower for 20 minutes, rolled up to the meeting late looking like a gremlin, and my one night stand was standing there in a suit
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