Riding home in a carseat. Worst. Night. Ever.
Apparently 151 is to me what spinach is to popeye.
you kept say ridiculous things then repeating them in perfect classical latin. You are onee intelligent drunk
No mixer. Vodka in yogurt?
The calves of my jeans are covered in jello shots from Sunday, how desperate do I have to be before I start licking them?
He was drinking a long island through his Breathalyzer tube.
For when you/if you wake up tomorrow.. You broke 4 of the bar's glasses tonight and I am currently watching you as you ride the broom around the bar instead of cleaning up your mess. I am no longer able to come up with excuses for you.
These shoes are way too nice for a walk of shame. Its how I keep myself in line.
Blasting venetian snares and drinking a beer. I love being an adult. It's like being a child but with beer for breakfast, better music, and no one yells at you.
I need drugs. Hard drugs. Today. Not tomorrow. Today. Something relaxing.
Update: That guy is no longer in the restroom, so he's probably not dead.
Is there like a dick file on me? Guys can't hold two dicks anymore?! Who are you people????
I enjoy the level of friendship we have achieved until you ask me to determine what may or may not be gentile warts via iphone pic
Just imagine a dick squawking like a parrot
So chicken strips and confidence do not you make you sober.
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