captain morgan taught me last night that resee's puffs are way better when eaten straight out of the sink.
We have to talk through the words with friends chat so his gf won't find out
Pregnant only lasts nine months, being hot takes way longer to go away. So yes, I will continue to hit on the hot pregnant girl.
I'm fucked up. I can't drink anymore. We stole a cat.
I forgot not everyone drinks wine out of the bottle. My grandma just asked if i needed a glass with a disappointing look.
You don't take my phone while I'm passed out, have a three hour conversation on it with Dealer Dave, set up a date with him and NOT TELL HIM THAT HE'S NOT TALKING TO ME.
Clearly that person doesn't understand how efficient getting drunk and working out at the same time is.
ugh... thank God for ATM withdrawal limits. I was drunk enough to give that weird shaped stripper all of my money while making her cry in the back room.
Found my bike today. On top of the garage. I'm not even going to ask myself why.
You aren't going to like my movie choice because it's a Disney movie, but I am cordially inviting you to the couch for blowjobs.
With 4 extra seconds dedicated to the dong.
These kind of text worry me.
Please remind me tomorrow that I ate a loaf of jimmy johns bread on the toilet 5 mins ago
It's official: I now only own one pair of jeans that I haven't blown the crotch out of. It might be time to put a stop to red wine Wednesdays.
You mean, in addition to red wine every-fucking-days?
Also Fuck you Stephen King and Fuck the horse you rode in on, making me cry In front of my coworkers.
My last memory of last night was being in a laundry room doing blow and admiring a washer and dryer... I think that's the earmark of old age
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