Yeah i'm definitely friends with drunk kyle, not sober kyle.
I don't remember anything other than how good it felt when I peed my pants.
I've decided to tape numbers to the bottom of my heels corresponding to the number of drinks I can safely consume in them.
you handed me the dorito you were about to eat and told me to 'keep him safe' while you went to the bathroom
at one point i was feeding a guy sour cream chips and he made me make the "choo choo" noise as they were going in. \ni feel so much closer to him now.\n
I've been ignoring his texts cause last night I put him in my phone as 'ignore for atleast a day' and I trust my drunk self.
He was hiding behind my bedroom door. at noon. Wearing a t shirt. And a condom. Not attractive.
I rolled out of the car, crawled on all fours to the door, did somersaults all the way to my room, and then I ran across the parking lot to tell our neighbor you wanted to bang him. I'm not even sure if it was the right guy.
My addiction to golf is getting out of hand....I just caught myself swinging my dick like a putter while peeing.
By the time the opening band finished, she was already slurring, coming on to the gay couple next to us, and waving her panties in the air.
I wish I cared about making my vagina as presentable as you do.
I will show up on your front porch in a wet t shirt and some mac and cheese
My intervention, when it happens, should have vanilla cake....buttermilk icing.
She walked into the kitchen, said 'we've come to this time of the party,' reached into the bowl of cold spaghetti and shoved a handful in her mouth.
How is it that I can make it to my 8am Friday morning still drunk after passing out the night before...but not to my 9am on Tuesday that I went to bed early for? Irony or karma?
Randomize
