it doesn't mae me god, the fact that I am god makes getting dressed futile and tedious... btw i am still drunk
I'm towing my little brother down the road on a sixty year old tractor, we're taking up the whole highway, and no one cares. I love South Dakota.
Chipotle...archenemy of the gay man. Cockblocking me since 1997
i love that you felt the need to clarify that you don't actually have drugs in your vagina.
They seriously just ended our alcohol presentation by giving us beer cozies. I love college.
the party we were at had security guards carrying paintball guns. that probably should have been the first sign
I'm going to try to be reasonable tonight and keep my drink count out of double digits
That's the international "my vagina is unoccupied, come talk to us" chant. You have your mission. Go.
Plan: drunk dancing. Reality: drunk almost getting in fights with people that could beat me into the ground.
This conversation has now reached a level of awkward that even a passerby streaking hobo couldn't break.
I knew it was a bad night when the only thing I could remember was you force feeding me tortilla chips as I hugged the tire of my car and begged to have my stomach pumped.
If he doesn't fuck you on the 4th of July, he doesn't really love this country.
I mean, it's a romantic picture of pubes if I've ever seen one
Is there a nice, calm way of telling your friend/housemate/former lover/person who does not reciprocate your feelings that your period is late?
Yeah, I'm pretty glad I chose you to have drunken, sloppy birthday sex with.
That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me
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