Being pregnant is so damn inconvenient for my sex life.
You unbuttoned your shirt and started walking down the center of the road screaming traffic stops for Enrique Iglesias.
Meanwhile I am sitting on the couch with a 32 ounce rum and coke trying to decide if I'm too drunk to go get french fries.
My lower body still feels like its been through a garbage disposal and a trash compactor. In that order.
Getting high magically turns headaches into rainbows.
We're gona eat taco bell and then take exlax and see who can hold it in the longest. Loser has to pay for drinks all weekend. You in?
You got into a heated argument about Frankenstein's intelligence while double fisting burritos from taco bell.
You're alright. You just passed out while we were having sex. Then I'm pretty sure you peed. So I went home.
First of all you're supposed to say "you're not fat". And second of all never ever deprive me of nachos.
I need a costume for that party. Even if I'm just taking it off.
Also- should we send out holiday cards? That say, "Eat a dick, 2014"?
He said did you just interrupt me midsentence to admire another man's penis?
We are totally like Jim and Pam, except ya know, drunk and not together anymore.
When was the last time you got laid?
When was the last time you came home sober?
touche
Our livers are going to hate us.
It's okay, they're regenerative. God wanted this.
Randomize
