So im at the gym and some guy has a tattoo of a hand doing the shocker... The douche bag bar has been raised yet again.
My eyes got the double whammy. Once with pepperspray from the riot the other with cum. Both of which i did nothing to deserve.
I just remember getting him back by licking the window on his truck.
I woke up on a futon in some strangers house. They were eating pizza and told me everything was going to be fine.
I wasn't so much your wingman at that point as I was the interpreter of you point at shit and mumbling to the cab driver.
A man in denim coveralls just shotgunned a beer on the dance floor
They let me keep the giant cocktail glass because I threw up in it. And made out with the bartender. Europeans are so generous. I'm getting it engraved
I think John will remember that birthday for a while. I'm still dying at the fact a stripper was hunting me down.
If you can't drink with the big boys, give up your beer and go back to the playpen
this party is nice, but i have to go home and cry over anime in order to fill my daily quota of suffering
I don't need no damn man when I have the cock-a-nator 2000.
I haven't showered. And am sitting in the office smelling like a beer can someone's been using as an ash tray.
I never want to even look at fireball again because it reminds me of the night I died and then lived to tell the tale of how I died.
We broke up. My life is now 7 inches less.
Drinks have officially taken priority over self-respect, and I'm not even all that torn up about it.
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