My dad just sent me a text telling me to "say hi to all the luscious bitches" at the gay bar. Guess this explains my childhood
Well he paid for dinner, so I paid for the Plan B, but the parking ticket I got is totally his responsibility.
I'm bleeding from my lower lip, and I have bruises around my neck. It was just easier to say I got mugged.
there are 5 pictures on my phone from last night, 4 are too blurry to recognize and the 5th is you dangling a twizzler over your mouth, naked.
Don't bother coming over to clean the mess. I already paid two kids 5 bucks for it, just didn't tell them you peed all over the place. You do owe me 5 bucks though
Then she cat effected the picture of my dick I sent her the other night. I'm in love.
At 27 it's no longer called 'slutty', it's called having a healthy sex life...
Apparently when it was last call I jumped up on the bar and told everyone to get the fuck out, which was immediately followed by a round of applause from the bouncers/bartenders and my tab getting paid as well.
He was chasing Ciroc shots with sips of Captain Morgan... he didn't make it to midnight
Dude, why did I wake up with ketchup packets in my bed and the stove in my room??
I was going to text you that earlier, but I felt like before 10 was probably to early to bring up boners
Chugging this bottle of Jim at the airport is proving more difficult than I imagined. TSA is not amused.
My autobiography will be 500 pages of the words "I probably should've thought this through" typed over and over.
All I want to do is lay in my bed and eat hotdogs
Do you know anything about how the saran wrap ended up on my toilet seat?
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