Picture the opening band right now: euro, beer guts, one member in oversized hipster lumberjack apparel, the other in childsized american apparel and shorts. Singing in german.
Her tattoo has the intellectual profundity of snakes on a plane except you can't laugh.
She forced me to throw up so it would "rejuvenate" me. It worked and then we took six more shots and did a keg stand. You know what I call that? Friendship.
Just realized the fur coat I am wearing to the wedding is the one I had sex with the groom in
apparently he thought telling me 'the weasel wants to come out to play' would somehow convince me to go down on him
he needs a life. he was like frothing at the mouth to cockblock you
I woke up to him drunk-t-bagging me, saying "huevos rancheros" were being served for breakfast.
My phone now knows what I type and it prompts me with frequently used words. And anytime I use "and" and hit the space key two of the words are "unicorn" and "sausage"
Because of him my new motto is "Keep calm and fuck a guy with a beard". Yes, I am serious.
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
Plus he stuck it in when you were sleeping which would have been the tipping point for me but you art school kids are all liberal and shit
Update: day 5 and Scott has not left the apartment. Still smoking. Pizza roll supply dwindling.
Just found the measuring tape in my bathroom. How drunk could I have possibly been on Saturday?!
The night's not a success unless at least 60% of participants wake up with bite marks on their genitals the next morning.
I don't know what kind of parties you go to, but we should hang out more often.
Last night I drank three beers and threw up in a tree house. I am ashamed.
Randomize
