apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
I just saw the host of Singled Out do standup. Holy shit 1995.
they just tried to tell me they weren't big into drugs. A) it was the 70's. B) I've seen the pictures.
I'm watching the red sox through my neighbors window from my bathroom. We're winning btw.
battery dying...get laid and text me after...or during...its whatever.
so I'm coping with getting the "I'm not over my ex" bomb dropped on me by getting drunk and yelling at people while wearing a purple princess hat
I miss the good ol' days when we would yell at strangers from your balcony while wearing our mexican ponchos in the middle of the day.
what ever happened to our old dealer?
Where are you, who is in my bed, why is he wearing a spandex onesie as underwear, how did i get teethmarks on my forehead, what are we doing tonight?
Passive mediator is your role in this relationship. My role is dick punching arsonist
She kept pulling joints out of her bra and asking strangers for birthday hugs.
So, my ex just showed me the drunk voicemail we left him last night. Started out with me saying "I think it's Shane." Then you took my phone and started singing a song about peanut butter, train tracks, and tequila. I joined in. On the upside, he said he's totally fine with being on the drunk dial list from now on. Soooo, another tequila night??
My orifices are off limits as long as you have that stache. Your call.
Rule 1: If any of us dies on a trip, the other two have to 'Weekend at Bernies' the shit outta that corpse...
This isn't good. I can't find my mom. This is why we don't give her Fireball.
We were sad, then we got horny, and then we needed some ranch
Randomize
