on the way home the dog started throwing up her bone in the car..so naturally i started to puke too
I think I would be able to remember how to smoke but I can't seem to remember how to breathe.
it's like, God thought about making her pretty then changed his mind at the last second
i don't care what you say, the winery is open and 10am is NOT too early to go barrel tasting
I have absolutely nothing sober to say to you.
as they left, you opened the door, dropped your pants then yelled "don't leave, this is what you're missing"
he was holding his dick in one hand and my boob in the other and i looked down and thought, this is my life
My neighbors are outside blasting Hootie and the Blowfish while drunkenly hitting a stump with a hammer. I could get used to this.
I have already decided that it happened in an alternate universe since both of the people involved don't remember it and we only have the word of a sober person that it happened at all
Somehow those two combined like captain planet and shit went haywire
Your heart is a swirling cauldron of blackness that does not pump blood but rather a sludgey mixture of evil and broken dreams.
What drugs are we doing when you visit?
The correct answer is all the drugs because I just found out they have glow in the dark bubbles.
You've gotta make sure the carpets match the drapes, though.
I am not dying my bush blue.
Pretty sure my idea of standards went out the window when I hooked up with a guy who had a rooster tattoo with an arrow pointing down to his no no bits. Think about it.
It's brunch. If you find dick at brunch. You an A+ hoe.
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