To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
He came on my face and told me I looked like a gingerbread house.
I can't even go pee because I'm making sure he doesn't run off somewhere naked.
If i ever have a kid with an outie i'm giving it up for adoption
This bitch flirting at the bar needs to close her legs and open up a book. I can literally feel my IQ dropping every time she bends down to show her tits.
Jealous?
Very.
I really hope you are not drunk feeding a raccoon.
you realize you insisted on them having a dance off to korean music to determine who takes you home?
I went by my nickname in rehab. It made it feel more like summer camp.
Just delivered a pizza to a holiday inn and a delivery driver from Me n Ed's walked up at the same time, we both were going to the same floor so we stood in the elevator making small talk about delivery stuff, but a small part of me wanted to deck him, stand over him and shout,"FOR THE HUT MOTHERFUCKER, FOR THE HUT!"
Jesus christ, don't start a pizza delivery gang war.
So I ate half a jar of mayo because I thought it would cure a hangover. I thought wrong.
I just used a box o wine to refill a bottle o wine to more effectively drunk clean
My intervention, when it happens, should have vanilla cake....buttermilk icing.
It's going to turn into you and me throwing down in a devastating lip-synch battle while everyone else stands around awkwardly.
Your life is a soap opera of great sex, cats, and booze.
Thinking and hoping ice cream is the answer to my problems
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