You text me last night that you invented a new food. Cheese-less grilled cheese. Congrats, you made toast.
I woke up with a new Tiffanys necklace on. I'm such a classy drunk.
I joined a mariachi band. they gave me a guitar because i told them i could play. It actually turned out ok
They kicked me out of the mariachi band. Turns out I'm not that good
You are forgiven. I sent you a picture of a pumpkin man as a gesture of reconciliation.
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Have your arms or hands ever gone numb after drinking too much?
Wtf did you do last night?
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
I am way too attached to fictional lesbians.
the last thing I heard was you screaming as the rodeo team herded you to the next party
And he listens to me when I talk to him like the hulk.
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Pregnancy has ruined porn for me. I can't watch a hot chick get it on without being jealous of her perfectly waxed shit. I can't even see my shit.
At what point can I admit that I hate going to house parties?
I don't wanna stand in your shitty kitchen making small talk while I guard the quality booze I brought.
4 pharmacies and not one had Plan B. If this is gods way of telling me it's time for a child, he can fuck off.
She'd probably like you more if you'd stop fucking her husband.
You came in yelling "I'm el scorcho" and then axe can flamethrowered my dresser. Awesomeness aside, you owe me a new dresser.
Just think how much she’ll hate me when she finds out I fucked her father
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