If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
jess passed out on the pong table. it was depressing until we started singing shania twain an hour later and heard her muffled voice singing along.
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
At least we kept it together. It's people like him who yell at bushes that give acid a bad name
So puking trix and chicken wings is horrible but atleast we got free drinks for taking the trash out at the bar we are really movin up in the world
I'm so confused. I feel like I just intentionally took roofies to see where I'd end up.
once again, we need to groom him to be a better human being. using liquor and tits.
I'm going to start charging you rent if you keep leaving your random conquests on my living room couch the morning after
Nothing says I love you as your fiancé bringing back home your drunk brother from his own stag party
oh. oh my god. i just had lunch with my mom with semen still on my face.
And you were like wow I love water shots they taste so good
Apparently "Welcome to the Sin Cave" is not how I'm supposed to answer the door
Honey you are a beautiful woman but I came over to eat your pizza and fuck your brother. And you're out of pizza.
I offered to trade my cat for a bottle of tequila as long as it had a handle on it and realized I had a problem
And on the way out from Applebee's he tried to take the basket of toothpicks claiming he was using them as a tax write off. Last time I babysit my dad on thirsty Thursday.
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