Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
She forced me to throw up so it would "rejuvenate" me. It worked and then we took six more shots and did a keg stand. You know what I call that? Friendship.
So I'm pretty sure I fucked the dept of homeland security guy on my kitchen table. No recollection of it, but there are signs.
Thanks for not stopping me when I decided to call my mom at 2 in the morning to ask her where I was born
God my Facebook chat is a graveyard of old blowjobz
There was a photo of his face glued to a lifesize Kim Kardashian cutout. By the end of the night he was doing shots out of medicine cups and making everybody hug it goodbye.
This weekend was suppose to be a 'smoke weed and stare at things' weekend. Not a 'spend all my rent money partying with Europeans till 8 am' weekend
Yeah but those French chicks did get naked
I accidentally peed all over the couch. It's safe to say I'm not welcome at that house anymore
As I am reading this. I'm standing in my underwear eating taquitos. I'm saying this in the most loving way possible: FUCK OFF.
I'm pretty sure you and I ate the entire Keebler elf weed workshop
Do they mail horrible human being awards or do I have to pick it up or what's the protocol on that shit
I'm getting "congrats on your engagement" shots. I need to get engaged more often!
I think one of my ovaries is committing suicide. But that is a topic for another day.
He told me to leave him behind and bury him in his batman pajamas. So two lessons I guess, don't give Tom whiskey and don't touch his daddy issues with a twenty nine and a half foot pole.
HIS DICK IS GLORIOUS AND I WANT TO RIDE IT TO VALHALLA
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