My place. Tomorrow Night. Bring your liver, and something for it to do.
At Coney Island the sign for the rollercoaster The Cyclone says, "Make sure your glasses and weave are secure."
She kept calling me her DD, which I assumed meant designated driver, so I was confused because I don't even have a car. Found out later it means designated dick. It's what her and her friends use as code for the guy they want to hook up with at the end of the night. I feel so used.
I don't want to have to wonder if I'm draining my pasta in the same side of the sink you pissed in
oh no, im for sure still drunk. i wana eat evrything in the fancy feast commercial... everything
test run with donkey pinata disastrous. broken glass and tequila EVERYWHERE
Hangover Status: I've been bedridden longer than that kid from The Secret Garden. It's not looking good.
he spent like 10 minutes trying to convince us that he was throwing up in the bushes on purpose in order to cut weight for wrestling
God only knows how I ended up there doing crown royal shots to the titanic and insighting a bar wide shit fest when I asked the dj to play levels
Hey Kellie. Me putting. My face intebetaeen ut your boobs made my night
Dude I broke her toilet blowing some dude. I wasn't going to turn down the 300$ he offered to fix it.
In case you're wondering where my head is at right now, it's wishing that I was getting laid and not having a debate about cheese.
He hasn't touched a vagina in two and a half years. THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE TO BE UNDER
I think Jabba the Hut is dying in the stall next to me.
With a butt like mine I'll never have to pay for Netflix again.
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