I called the bartender Mr. Intoxication last night. He thought it was funny until i threw up and blamed it on him
I was trying to be really smart and save 10 dollars for each cab there and back. ...so I ripped a $20 dollar bill in half.
The next time you try to involve a tickle me Elmo in my orgasm, I'm leaving you
I've watched enough of my roommate's imported Japanese satellite to know when the exchange students are calling me a whore.
There are eight sets of guys I've made out with who have the same name. It's like noah's ark in my mouth.
I have managed to reach the 'after meth poster look' before lunch here...
he taught all the little kids to ski. it was stupid hot. i'm pretty sure my ovaries exploded.
I told the bartender that his red, white and blue shots were terrible and tasted like Thomas Jefferson's balls.
Why is everyone judging me for telling the cat a bedtime story?
You have a husband. I have a bag full of electronics. This, is the single life.
Thanks for the reference. If your boss hires me, I'll buy you a drink.
If my boss hires you, I'm going to need it.
You threw away your W2 to make more room in your purse for liquor.
he told me he had a gf and in the very next sentence asked if I wanted to have sex.
They tried to get you to drink water and all you kept shouting was, "NO MORE LIQUIDS OF *ANY* KIND."
Visiting my great uncle went well. The highlight of the evening was when he said, "Oh my god. I'm 79 and I'm teaching 18 year old kids how to roll a joint."
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