4:12a: just got back to his place now. I don't want to talk about it
My whole home page is your drunken face booking, congrats.
i nerd-gasmd. plain and simple.
so... my grandma just told me i should be a stripper
well at least shes not calling you fat anymore
my bedside table was not meant to hold this many beer bottles.
I just saw a group of 50+ year old women all wearing shirts that said "drink up, bitches" ...please tell me that can be us some day.
Nypd just made jon and hayes chug their forties.
Ice cream: Good. Fraternity: Good. Eating ice cream off a Skid Row bum's ass crack in order to get into a Fraternity: Homoerotic at best. I quit.
he got everyone in a room, turned off the lights and started throwing knives at the wall. if you got hit, you had to drink...
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
I enjoy the level of friendship we have achieved until you ask me to determine what may or may not be gentile warts via iphone pic
I fell into a manhole last night, so there's that
You snapped me at 3am drunk laying on your floor asking if I knew how we couldn't have predicted the housing crisis.
I'm sittin in my Hawaiian shorts watching the office eating cold asparagus. wow do I suck when you're not here.
I miss your drunken presence, and strong odor of hard liquor and potent weed.
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