Cleveland boys shit in their own pumpkins in their own living room. Got pictures to prove it.
We're upstairs smoking....the password is pineapple
i can't believe i brushed your teeth last night. so drunk.
Some are given great drunkenness. Others have great drunkenness thrust upon them, in the form of ice storms.
Its like the unofficial aniversary of the loss of her virginity. And I will be giving tours of the spot they did it in and showing how I'm serious when I say the grass doesn't grow there anymore.
The only reason I'd ever want a boyfriend is so that someone would spoon feed me applesauce when I'm so hungover I can't move
I think drinking everclear was a better idea than taking a night class.
The smell came through my closed door. His farts are made of rendered tires, and apparently, ghosts.
Dammit now I'm pissed. Its like I am torn between two worlds. A world of girls, and a world of people punching other people in the head. Both are just so beautiful.
I'm at a restaurant. I am NOT about to discuss my asshole over the phone.
We fired a shoe out of a medieval cannon. I know not where we got either one.
I can't help you right now because I'm shaving my feet...like a lady.
Found a pic on my phone from last night. You're drunk. Arm wrestling some guy. In the bar bathroom. At a baby changing station. It's my new wallpaper.
When we get drunk one of us ends up running off and fucking someone in an inappropriate place, like the roof of the restaurant, or Greece, while the other convinces people not to worry and not to go looking. That good sir is a real mother fucking friendship.
Thats what I'm talking about
There better be alcohol at this child's birthday party. Seriously not trying to be entertained by a clown while I'm still sober.
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