Minivans at bars can only lead to bad things.
Moms kinda upset I threw up in grandmas bedroom. I think ill stay in tonight.
The last thing i remember is saying breakfast beer and carrying the keg to my room and locking the door.
Leaving someone plastered on a corner at 3am telling them to just scream for cock is NOT being a good wingman.
I forgot my id and a man called soup is buying me vodka.
Im positive, your name was on my abdomen, Im pretty sure thats solid evidence
hungover and i feel like a burrito
like eating one or like you are one?
like i am one.
I hear youre working today. To keep you entertained, ive compiled a list of condiments that my dick has NOT been slathered in since last Friday: Relish, and raspberry jam. That's right.
Is it too early to say this year has been a blur?
Believe me. As soon as the boss man is out the door. I am on my way to wow your vagina with my horse-like attributes.
AND BY FEELINGS I MEAN VODKA
work has become about six times more interesting since i started fucking my boss.
I just wrote a love letter to my weed and texted it to my cousin. I can't say it any differently. It happened.
My trash can accurately represents my weekend: Bojangles wrappers and magnums.
I love him about as much as I'd love fucking myself with a cactus.
Randomize
