home. puking in laundry basket.
Don't judge me. If you're going to fall off a bed you might as well do it gracefully into a bag full of beer.
I've also decided that the true test of whether or not you should marry a girl is if she will willingly blow you while you eat Oreos.
Here's my first problem: I'm drunk
You are so lucky you didn't go back to Tate's house. They decided to figure out who had the biggest balls... I was the judge
He looked at me and just said "moist". The entire party shut down from uncomfortableness. He is an anti-party wizard.
You were cuddling with an eight iron and I was eating a fajita completely ignoring your presence.
My uterus is doing all sorts of karate moves to break free of my body.
I woke up in the basement of a pizza restaurant... I would say the tequila hit me pretty hard.
Also, full disclose I puked in a fruit barrel box
So you're mad that I let you go home with the guy with soft hands but yet you can't understand that I was just trying to help you
I found a Trump-humping republican virgin born on the goddamn Fourth of July. I NEED to hate-fuck him.
COME AND FUCKING GET ME I AM IN SOME SORT OF JUNKYARD!!!
So, i might have left my morals back in 2011.
All i remember from last night was that i was sitting on the toilet for a good hour eating a philly cheesesteak hotpocket... then i woke up... in my bed.
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