I woke up with a flask of whiskey and a mason jar full of sausage in my tux jacket. south georgia is where i belong
You told the waitress last night "What tip bracket do I have to be in to see your boobs"
Having him as a wingman is like telling the girl you already have aids
you might as well be a hobo. you were covered in pee last night hanging out on the stairs drunk.
right. well we all have our lows.
You're welcome to join, but just to warn you, tequila makes my clothes disappear. And I'm telling you that as an adult to an adult, not as your supervising teacher who decides whether or not you graduate.
If I had really thought it through, I would have bought some Depends, popped one on and made this night my bitch.
Friendly reminder that on the walk home you tripped but instead of falling to the sidewalk, you tried to save it and ended up headbutting my ex-boyfriend in the balls. ILU.
I yield to the immortal wisdom of one ludacris, who famously wrote, "can't turn a hoe in to a housewife." Indeed, ludacris, indeed.
I broke my heels and ended up on a random party bus where I passed out after a brief stripper pole incident.
I don't know how it happened. All I did was tell her I was impressed by her presentation. Her nail marks on my back ain't going away anytime soon.
My entire news feed is ice bucket challenges. I wish there was a hide from feed button like FarmVille
Reminding you of hookups your brain is trying to suppress. That's what friends are fooooooooor...
I supernannyed him into submission
So I had Xanax for breakfast & I'm probably going to fuck my tennis instructor.
AMAZON SELLS SEX SWINGS!
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