I wonder if all of the nights I blacked out will be revealed to me when I die. Have you ever thought about that?
Why did that cocktail waitress get to sleep with Tiger for 2 years, and all I ever got for living in Whorelando for five years is a couple of pictures with Joey Fatone
Someone left a beer in front of your door...there's a note with it that says "peace offering"
BEER BONG IN THE STOCKROOM COME IN TO WORK TODAY
It must have been an amazing night, I have "my pants are responsible people" written on my pants in permanent marker.
I woke up in a poorly constructed blanket fort on a strange office floor covered in rug burns and champagne. How was your night?
I am on top of a rooftop peeing on your freedom
Why is there puke in my guitar?
Because you puked in your guitar.
My morning started with my mom giving me the number for a substance abuse councellor. How's your day going?
My previously white toilet seat is now hot pink. I'm not sure why or how but I know it's your fault.
I walked into the bathroom and there's this 6'5" cop washing his hands. He looks at me and goes, "Heard you singing outside. Sound real pretty."
No more tequila EVER.
I'm like, not good at living.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
I gave her two orgasms and then we laid there and she ate jelly beans out of my belly button...that girls a keeper
i can't believe i helped you shave your back last night, and she still didn't sleep with you.
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