Come over. Drunk tacos.
That isn't even a sentence.
I kept the important parts.
The last thing I remembered was laying in the bathtub fully clothed with the shower running while he was picking grilled cheese out of my hair. I couldn't figure out if i was more upset about being soaking wet or the fact that my grilled cheese was in my hair instead of my mouth.
The cop was more concerned with the syringes on the dash board than looking for the source of the smoke. Thank god for diabetes!
But seriously, I hug most of my drug dealers.
YOU WERE HAVING SEX IN THE SAME BED I WAS SLEEPING IN. AND YOU GRABBED MY HAIR. OF COURSE I'M PISSED.
She started telling me about this odd patch of smooth skin under her boobs. Not sure if she was hitting on me or looking for free advise from a doctor...
I mean, I still played with her tits for like 20min tho.
We could have casual sex if you want. But I can't offer a bromance to a woman.
Hung over and there is no way in the world I can make this mess look good today. Only solution is to stay drunk.
we told the drug dealer that our car was dead and we needed a jump so he would bring the drugs to us...
Looking back on this weekend, I'm most grateful I never brought up with word "toe-fucking" at the bachelorette party.
Your loyalty to the Redskins reminds me how no matter how much I disappoint you, you will still always be rooting for me.
The only thing I know is that these arent my shoes and Aaron is missing and he has my house keys.
It's just unfortunate that I still have the image of him having sex with me fresh in my mind
When I woke up this morning I swear my mouth tasted like dick and rolaids.
I don't wanna SLEEP with him, I want to start bar fights with him. There's a difference.
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