There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
He wants to call Lloyd's of London and have my mouth insured.
I might scale it back and go as an investment banker. Which is the exact same costume as James Bond on LSD. I just introduce myself differently.
She just told me she's too full for a reach-around. Sad.
If we ever start off with margaritas for breakfast and end up naked covered in olive oil...I could think of worse ways to spend a day.
You kept whispering "Party Dave" every time someone would start talking.
I just want a whole pitcher of margarita and a headdress from party city and sit around and look like a fucking indian princess.
For the record you were pretending you were in a rocket when you drove from wawa to your house. So like 2 minutes of me listening to you making rocket sounds over the phone lmfao
Of all the things that can be stripped of me i'll be damned if it's my vanity
Your brother slept on my deck. There was a key under the mat. Relapse party success.
like, you weren't just lying there, you were wrapped in what appeared to be the skin of a wolf, chanting doomsday prophecies
THE END IS NEIGH
Current status: so high that I'm unable to have coherent conversation with my mom, but still knew that when my dad said "shpritzy white stuff" I understood that he was trying to think of "whipped cream."
That text took me 10 minutes.
Dude I'm drinking alone and watching cartoons. How is it that someone as hot as me is doing this.
Looking back, we probably shouldn't have chased alcohol with more alcohol
I’ve got a lot of questions but the first one has to be where you got the flame thrower.
Randomize
