I wish they made sweatshirts for legs
you mean pants?
I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
My tally is now official: I have been drunk every weekend since 2008. Cheers.
Well, a cop just pulled up. This could go either way.
I've reached the point to where my pre-gaming needs to be limited to pre-inning-ing
I think I'm gonna quit partying for awhile. Piercing my own nose is where I draw the line.
Here's a tip. Don't party with someone that needs sexual attention. Drinking and sexual attention don't mesh well in the morning. Especially over a bowl of Cheerios.
My chest hair is, as we speak, arching upward to embrace my neck beard. The union will be a storied one.
Vodka drinking games. Where you wake up next to a douche lord and see your thong in the blinds.
My worst fear almost came to light...I was choking and the cats stared at me like they had no problem eating my face if I died
Please warn me if you ever end up in porn, cause I don't want to stumble across that on accident, okay?
You shut your whore mouth, we don't talk about Drunk Nutella night.
I masterbated to the rocky theme song. I'm pretty sure that just beat any sex experience I've ever had.
Getting drunk at 9 am is not a super power.
My tits became the mascot for the SAE house last night.
Randomize
