Just threw up at the table during our Father's Day dinner. And I managed to get quite a bit on dad, so that was nice.
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
she walked in on me snorting my prozac. there was no way to convince her i was doing a good thing.
He did the "not my house dance." Apparently it involves spreading cereal on the floor and then grinding into the carpet in bare feet while singing "not my house" over and over and dancing.
Not gonna lie i was comfortable between the allsups air conditioners while you were talking to the cop.
Update is I am officially king of Gettysburg. Tam and I are being threaded like royakt. In bought e ruined a drink
Remember that picture you sent me of you trying to eat the flower arrangement in the bathroom at that restaurant?
you were drunkenly making out with a 20-something in front of your wife. at least the guy your wife left with was decent looking.
I had sex on a dinosaur comforter, tell me that does not define my life.
Will you be super villain lesbian lovers with me for halloween?
Our night has progressed to doing coke off a laundry machine through a parking ticket
I don't know if the puke on my pants is mine or not
I dunno that I'd be trusting enough of junkyard tequila to drink it.
Come as you are, bitch. Glitter and vodka provided.
She won't let me meet her hot new boy toy just because she thinks it'll lead to us having a threesome. It's not fair. I thought we were friends...
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