I have your camera. You have 35 naked pictures of me. you're welcome.
Sorry if I'm being weird. I'm dipping doritos in cabernet.
I may have pooped in your shoe. or somewhere else in your closet. its unclear.
I woke up to him using my debit card to order PPV porn and Jimmy Johns. I don't even know his name.
We officially wrote our house rules 1. We do not waste alcohol 2. Pinky promises mean something 3. Don't leave your facebook open, and if you do, don't complain 4. Never refuse cuddle or catch phrase
You have dresses for different occasions. I need different men's dicks too. It's logic.
The shit show didn't end. it just relocated itself to my apartment instead of yours.
you also need to get my treadmill fixed.
I'm just over here all sober hanging with two high people talking about how they're "free-spirited stallions."
So much rum. So many feels.
I actually feel a twinge of sadness recycling all of our handles... I feel like I'm throwing out some great memories or lack of them because we don't remember
You insisted that your middle name was "velociraptor" for 20 minutes and every time someone said something you tried to relate it to velociraptors. That kind of drunk.
You'll pass into the great gay beyond
Where it rains cosmopolitans and scantily clad gogo dancers of all genders direct traffic
I wish I had a Tina from Bob's Burgers in real life. She would be the best wingman.
Let's be honest, I've seen a decent amount of dicks in my life and very few of them have been worth all the trouble.
Don't come back. They don't have pants.
Oh god.
God has nothing to do with this.
Randomize
