What part of "waking up in the crawl space of my house with a raccoon" sounds like a good night to you?
No, we're smoking outside. We're hot boxing the world.
It's not my fault. Someone keeps buying me tequila shots. Idk who. But every time I look down there's another. I think there's a conspiracy.
In all seriousness, if tomorrow night becomes a heated game of Which Ex Gets To Take The Plastered Birthday Girl Home, I'm going to bow out with my integrity intact.
It's never too late to be topless.
Between the walk of shame, bar fight, karaoke, injuries, number of bar check-ins, and variety/quantity of alcohols and Advil consumed, I'd say HookerFest 2012 was a raging success.
It's just good to know that when I drink like a twenty year old I still act like one.
I wanted to make fun of someone saying that to an untrained ear, skrillex is blah blah blah. But it was too soon after they said it. And now I can't find it. These are real problems.
It was everywhere. My dick was a sprinkler of lost future children.
No. No. No. No one's allowed to fuck in the yurt.
Eating a chocolate bar and crying over a cobweb. Life is beautiful and I love shrooms.
Sarah is throwing up still and I'm eating salad with my fingers
Got to work this morning and thought... Did I really dance on that pole last night
We were sad, then we got horny, and then we needed some ranch
i woke up on the floor in front of the fireplace and my last google search was "fuck sponges"
Randomize
