Whoa. I woke up to 10 new text messages. All about bacon.
My porch is a mess of peanut butter and tostitos...thanks for that.
Just bought an airhorn. Bad things will happen.
Me and my vagina aren't speaking at the moment.
UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
The closest thing to a sext that you will ever receive from me is a picture of pepperonis on Greg's asscheeks, clenching.
Look. If you get me out of this speeding ticket you can bang my sister. Or my mom. But not both.
The roommate asked me to make sure no one fucked in his room. And then preceded to give only me permission to fuck in his room. Had no idea who I was, just thought I was trustworthy cause I had Edward 40 hands. Felt like a Tarantino movie.
I also turned off the Anchorman DVD start menu before cause I didn't want Will Ferrel watching me lose my virginity.
I just swallowed some ecstasy stuck in my nose from last night. Work should be interesting.
I'm trying to poop and took acid, this is going to end horrid or wonderful. Oh the amusement park, not the pooping.
You know you're doing well in life when weed is considered to improve your job performance
There's some random guy here dryhumping my kitchen door. If he is a friend of yours, please come and retrieve him.
You owe me beer. On another note, I made out with the ups guy at work today ....
We found him. He just came running out of the closet with a bruise on his face saying he has been fighting elves in Narnia for a year.
Randomize
