His shirt was in the kitchen sink this morning, I'm pretty sure my roommates know.
You told the entire McDonalds staff that I was a whore and that you didn't want your french fries cooked.
It wasn't like a party or anything. They played PlayStation and talked about sports. Then I threw up on his porch.
He told me to come in and have some water before I drove home, my vagina didn't stand a chance escaping. We didn't even make it to the kitchen.
Getting drunk and throwing things at people isnt the same with you not here. Remember when you dislocated my elbow and then popped it back in in one motion?
Wait, just ask him if can you can join in. You haven't lived until you've taken part in a threesome with your father...or so I've heard
I walked around with red solo cups on my feet, weeds tied around my neck and a tree in my hand
I'm sorry, the person you're trying to reach is WAYYY too high to deal with this right now.
I'm starting to think that birthday sex is just an urban legend. Like the boogey man, and woman orgasms.
i have achieved a new state of being which requires no food or water but is sustained only by coffee and pure, unrelenting rage
do you remember your solution to not spill your drinks last night? .. Shots, that way you wouldnt have time to spill them. i love your drunken logic haha
Don't tell him that you hope he dies in a boring missionary position with his wife. That doesn't go over well.
The single life is the freaking dream dude. I'm sitting here naked, eating chocolate mousse, and watching Gilmore girls. It's wonderful
Should we make a shared Google doc list of places we want to fuck? Like a scavenger hunt?
You took your shirt off at the bar, handed it to a girl, and made her wash your dirty shirt on your washboard abs
tuesdays get the best of me...
Randomize
