spell your last name, im trying to find you on facebook
Nothing says I've got my life together like buying a jumbo bottle of 7$ wine in sweat pants on a monday night
I have to fuck proof my bed. It was in the middle of the room this time.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
He looks like he got hit by a weed-eater with chlamydia
That's the first time I've ever heard something that tickled both my gag reflex and my penis simultaneously.
Maybe. This hangover is made of nightmares and that thing from the Alien movies.
Dude, she gave me a handski that literally felt like she was starting a lawn mower...
He is currently pregaming mini golf. MINI GOLF.
The bachelorette started when I opened the door and they threw a few dozen dildos at me.
You rolled around on the floor, yelled about being a "half-zombie" and bit that guy on the leg who was hitting on me.
The compounded multi day delayed hangover hit me hard today, with a vengeance normally reserved for large objects that go in my ass. I don't feel good.
He sent me a picture of Reese's peanut butter cups next to his dick. Of course I went over.
The cat ate a weed mint. This is not a drill
Just realized tomorrow is the anniversary of the time Dean and I glued DJ's leg back together with Neosporin and an Ace bandage. I'm bringing red velvet cupcakes to the party to celebrate.
Randomize
