you're like the ceasar milan of boners... you understand them on a different level.
my soul wont recognize me after tonight
Her tattoo has the intellectual profundity of snakes on a plane except you can't laugh.
It's really awkward to greet the pastor when I know I've licked chocolate syrup off his daughter's chest.
When I came home you were watching infomercials, eating croutons out of the box and salsa from a funnel. Well done.
She's not depressed. She's just sober. It's like the same thing.
no memory loss, but i'm unhappy with my memories
I should start riding the bus again so I can drink all day
Would it be bad if I bought her bread, meat, cheese, and stuff as her christmas present so she can make me a sandwich?
I'm pretty sure I had my drunk fortune told by a gay Miss Cleo last night. At least it's advice sober me can agree with.
I'm pretty sure the bus driver knew how hung over I was and hit all the pot holes on purpose. I threw up into my water bottle.
I replaced his Viagra pills with sleeping pills.
Monday funday. I brushed my teeth with antibacterial soap. hangover I did not have.
Other than the whole stab wound in my leg thing, today was pretty good. The nurses all loved me and gave me a sandwich and juice.
he's fucking insane. he's worse than me. is that even possible? I'm only with him because his dick is huge. I need Jesus.
Randomize
