So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
i just traded a sweatshirt for margaritas... why did they ever stop using the barter system??!!
Remember when the only STD we had to worry about were hickies? Those were the days
I don't care. He smelled like a fucking chilli cookoff
you were sitting on your bed looking out the window, rocking back and forth naked, saying how peaceful it looked outside
I blacked out after the shots of canned lobster bisque.
just when i thought we would make it home without incident he tried to walk a police dog
I was fine until "Under Pressure" came on the radio. It's like God wanted me to shit my pants on the drive home.
The good thing about having holes in your nose from all the drugs you do is that you can't smell nasty things. Like puke.
We need to put it on a rope attached to the bong, so it can't be dropped. Apparently, you need a stem safety leash.
How many trips to the liquor store in a week constitutes alcoholism?
Is it unethical to trim my bush hair with the scissors from my office?
woke up to a case of keystone on my porch when I went to bed at seven that morning.. I think it's someone's peace offering for getting my roommates car towed
We were fucking in the boat on the lake when another boat saw us and honked their appreciation.
Is the Glover Park Chipotle past the strip club?
Why is that your only point of reference?
Just answer the question
Randomize
