I drunkenly recorded an episode of Family Matters last night. I took a shot everytime Carl Winslow had a mustache.
5 out of the 6 of them cut their hands while trying to shot gun the beer, I had never seen balls attached to such patheticness
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
This is how we made chicken soup last night: Whole chicken in a pot of vodka with a box of crackers and some carrots. We should go pro.
Nothing like an old fashioned, wine fueled, anxiety-cry in the shower to start off finals week.
It's 6 a.m. ... what the hell.
I'm pretty sure my liver died in Reno and my intestines are doing hula hoops around my asshole. The bachelor party was that good.
there's a photo set of like seven dicks covered in glitter....i don't know what to do
Look, when i woke up this morning, I had every intention of being a responsible twenty-five year old, cleaning up, making my budget, and filing my taxes. Its just I got siderailed by pot and downloading classic Disney songs, because fuck adulthood; everyone loves Disney.
I'm gonna take a crap in the portashitter like a civilized human being.
You know the party's good when you say "Never have I ever caused an emergency landing" and someone drinks
its the pipe that keeps on giving. Just when I think it's done, I scrape just enough. It's a st. Patrick's day miracle!
I almost forgot to feel shameful, if that answers your question.
He was cheering for me from the end of the bar as I sloppily ate a Ruben sandwich. It made me feel really special.
Let's celebrate our country being screwed by screwing.
Sometimes a man just deserves to get woken up with a blowjob.
Randomize
