My "High Times" magazine came in today, as well as my girlfriend's new sex toys. We're calling in sick today.
He says he's "masters drunk." And if that's anything like "kentucky derby drunk" I know enough to not go over there.
I sat alone in Buffalo Wild Wings eating chocolate cake on Country Western karoake night. The waiter asked me if I was ok. Twice.
My leg won't stop wagging. It's like it's congratulating my vagina.
I actually enjoy jerking off to her facebook more than I enjoy actually fucking her. Just something with our generation
I consider myself an expert at getting drunk and embarrassing people at weddings.
I owe you cheese. The drunk munchies don't acknowledge food ownership.
We need to make boob twerking a thing. I feel like that's why vine was invented
And the next morning he asked me why I had clothes on so I said so that he could take them off again.
It's like fucking tetris in this bed
Oh my god the guy at DQ just gave me the number 69 and winked at me
you said something about joining a k-pop band before passing out topless on the trampoline.
I know he's only a bandaid for my emotional disrepair, but he can stick me anytime!!
I woke up at 2 AM to find them in my living room with a radio flyer wagon full of milk glass plates and a Holstein cow. How am I going to explain this to my landlord!?!
After we had sex he gave me a thumbs up... fucking A&M Aggies, man
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