i hope the fucking fire crotch burns his mouth
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
my debit card account is gonna say movie, movie, ice cream, movie, cheese fries, get a fucking life, movie
please dont tell anyone i was drunk
you were publicly making out with a very old very spandex covered woman...they know
We asked "Is that Andy puking in the bushes, its 7 AM" he looks up and goes "It's okay guys, its 7:30"
We didn't have beer, so we played mini-beer pong with shots and frozen peas.
Sorry you called when I was puking in a cheetos bag
Just found a wrench in the washing machine. Sooo not doing your laundry anymore.
Using a 12 year old as a wingman. Does that make me a bad person?
And apparently I was the one that started the drunken make out session that broke the window
The feeling I get when I hear beer bottles clinking must be what children feel when they hear sleigh bells on Christmas Eve
I told the guy that if he didn't put enough pepperoni to earn the name " pepperoni feast", that I was gonna sue him for all he had. Believe it or not, that's all I remember.
I got back and Katie was asleep holding a burrito. I woke her up and she ate it and passed back out.
My moral compass cannot be waived by two measly bloody Mary's
I can now say I know getting hit in the face with a flying tortilla is not fun
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