he cracked the bottle of jager at 11am and said "hey, its Saturday and I gotta do something"
alright so where did all these fingerpaintings on my bedroom wall come from?
dude. you drew those with your dick
was it good sex?
i mean it was good for how drunk we were. and for how big the closet was
put me on a leash or i'm going to fuck someone
That's what you get for dating construction workers you meet in tunnels.
My apartment smells like a lavender field inside of a giant bong.
It's an open bar. I'm gonna be gone when you get here.
Text me the address now before you're too drunk to text English.
At the bar, some guy bumped into you and you screamed "hey, don't touch what you can't afford sunshine!"
Wait is this black Chris #1, cocaine Chris, or gay Chris?
No this is saxophone Chris
This morning I woke up in the entrance of a retirement home. Memory fragments from last night: making it rain with the contents of my wallet over the bridge, getting hit by a car, and a lot of running.
Dude. He almost took three different girls home, all while dressed up as Amy Winehouse. If he goes as Kurt Cobain next weekend, we're screwed.
Would it be sad if I made a blanket fort to get drunk in till the power came back?
We told you to act sober so to prepare yourself you started doing squats and stretching then you slapped yourself and walked in
I'd date him. I'd date the fucking shit out of him.
Even my conscience is telling me to take this Wednesday's exam buzzed.
Randomize
