that was after robitussin, alcohol, and chocolate sauce... but before we finished pregaming
I've slept with so many tools that you'd think my pussy was Home Depot.
I've decided to turn your sobriety into a reason for me to be able to drink more.
I don't remember his name but he sat in the bathroom and gave us both advice...
literally overdrew my bank account at 3 in the morning to eat subway with 7 sherriffs.
There is nacho cheese and blood everywhere.
So I found the perfect "Yeah I gained weight since high school but it went to all the right places" outfit for the reunion this weekend.
Woke up this morning buried in a mountain of chex mix and bubble wrap. We must have been doing something great last night
I feel like I've asked you "are you okay?" one too many times in the last 48 hours. You're hopeless.
There really needs to be a redbox for wine because I want some but too lazy to walk into a store
OH MY GOD! I CAN FEEL A PULSE IN MY BALLS IT HURTS! ITS LIKE MINI FEMINIST NINJAS ARE ATTACKING MY BALLS!!!
So basically he is jobless, a potential serial killer, and has poor taste in music? We simply don't have time for that.
If he sends me a dick pic so help me god.
Some bitch is passed out in a pool of vomit. Fucking lightweight, it's only 8.30.
Oh, wait.. That's you.
Well, you started screaming "I dont know you GO AWAY" to your mom when she was holding your hair as you threw up in her garden.
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