did that guy on the oscars really just tell me to text a dolphin?
I had a dream last night that I had sex with Abe Lincoln. I must stop watching the History Channel before I go to bed.
Fuck winter. I had to scrape my windshield, shoeless, after the walk of shame so I could go home.
I'm having a flashback of telling a guy that he was beautiful and graceful like a unicorn while playing shuffleboard.
It was a cry at the bar alone type of night, served with a side of passing out facedown in my nachos.
Well I could just do a roadtrip and hit them all. Slut tour 2012.
I take pleasure in knowing how many gallons of booze we've put away in comradery.
I think we should measure in "bathtubs"
pretty sure 5 days for a bachelor party in Vegas is too long when even the stripper giving me a lapdance says "wow that's a long time!"
Everything is just really out of control. I hear puking from three different parts of the house. Roger has black eye from being punched. Kaiser tried shaving his head, but somehow burned himself. Music is bumping, but everyone is either puking and calling out for help or blacked the fuck out.
This is what we do on Thursday nights. Spray tans, blunts and drawing pictures of cats.
Never underestimate the power of loudly proclaiming you want to make out with someone
Give me an out of order sign and caution tape and we can have sex practically anywhere.
So my ex vomited in front of my door and passed out there
By the time we got to McDonald's you were sharing a Big Mac with a stripper.
I don't even remember what dignity looks like anymore. I JUST WANTED TO ROAST SOME POTATOES
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