Partly cloudy chance of praying to the porcelin gods
So I'm at the Chevron by your house. I need a condom and a couch.
Together?
Preferably.
we're drinking boxed wine and eating string cheese. It's like a wine tasting for poor people.
You said that we had to leave the party together and proceeded to repeat the "ducks fly together" speech from The Mighty Ducks word for word. Soon the whole party was quite and started chanting quack..quack...quack..
I opened my browser to a doctor page titled "serious pain under left side of ribcage". Last night must have been healthy.
I hit her tiny dog with a horseshoe an hour ago. Her and her mom cried as it laid on the ground shaking. Im drunk.
Drunk. I slept-stripped.
By myself.
I just had really awesome sex bent over the side of an air hockey table. That is all. Happy thanksgiving.
YET AGAIN, my financial planning for 2013 consists MOSTLY of eating chipotle as "brain food" and drinking Heavily before the Jeopardy contestant test.
For sure. I'm slow cooking a 6 pound pork shoulder wrapped in bacon. If that doesn't scream "guys I'm going into culinary arts lets get drunk" I'm not sure what does.
I feel like my dick pic collection should be archived at the Smithsonian
Not as great as when your drunk mom grabbed my junk, but better than when your sober grandma sacktapped me and grabbed my butt.
Like tbh you're not doing anything that screams I'm drunk and yet nothing says I'm going to spend $30 on McDonalds and make out with a stranger like that picture
SHE MASTURBATED TO THE THOUGHT OF ME HAVING AN ALL DUDE THREESOME WITH HER EX BOYFRIENDS.
On a scale from 1 to 10 how gross is it to get a chili dog from a vending machine?
Randomize
