So I feel really bad about last night...can i give you a blow job and we call it even?
you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
My eyes got the double whammy. Once with pepperspray from the riot the other with cum. Both of which i did nothing to deserve.
ME TOO. Am adrunk madr out qith. White guy. Guy de white. Blanco chico. Chico de blanco
You had the genius idea to tape beer to the celing fan. There goes his security deposit. He is gonna be fuckin pissed.
I wish you could take over my body and feel what my nipple feels like right now
Douche bag was crowd surfing, sack punched him. Crowd carried him away in a ball of agony. LIFE=COMPLETE.
That's how you know it was a good night if two months later you finally realized your skirt never made it home and you found out where it was.
It made me want to take you home, put you in footie pajamas and feed you spaghettios
So I'm texting her. How do I steer the conversation toward "I honestly would be fine never seeing you again"?
the people next to us at the red light cheered for you while you puked out the window...
If you don't see me at the bar tomorrow night, I was most likely captured by the communists.
You came in, yelled 'i am from the future' then puked all over the floor
Dude, you screamed I AM THE WALRUS while giving a statue of Ronald McCdonald a lapdance. You were NOT sober.
NOT PREGNANT according to the two dollar tree pregnancy tests I took in the tacobell bathroom. Come meet me at tacobell for celebratory soft tacos.
Randomize
