I judge my drunkenness on my brickbreaker playing skills. I'm winning. Suck it.
Michelle found a bong in the garbage and sold it to my mom
just hang any plant up and call it mistletoe.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
I took my vicodin with tequila. I can FEEL gravity...
as we were driving back from the frat house he pulled down his pants and convinced me his penis "wanted some air"
Nothing like throwing up 1/2 price appatizers and 2 4 1 personal pitcher in uniform to remind myself what a succesful failure I am
I always know the weekend is over when the real license comes out and the fake goes back into the hiding spot.
She dropped a weight class after every shot I took. I thought I was just drink something magical.
If it makes you feel any better, karma just served me up a big dose of fuck you.
He just stared me dead in the eye as he continued to beat off. Then said "you were going to catch me sooner or later".
For the first time in my life, I may be the most normal person in the room.
Update: I am definitely the most normal person in this room. And the least tattooed.
Car is still out of commission. Looks like it's Grape Nuts and scotch for dinner.
I would not recommend douching while drunk.
Of course he’s picking me up at the airport. I taught him the Lotus position last time we had sex.
Randomize
