I just tipped a bartender in xanax.
I just saw grafitti that read "Mug The Fart Eater". Really, Memphis? That's all you've got?
He kept starring at my ass and repeating "Its Just a beautiful piece of artwork."
I'm proud of us, I'm cleaning up the place and I haven't found a single beer can that isn't empty.
He told me he was 'pondering the natural wonder that is my ass'
Like, dude. I'm already fucking you, you don't need to wax poetic.
Isn't he wasted enough that he might actually mean it and not just be trying to get you to fuck him without a condom?
Getting too drunk for the hot dog vendor to serve me is possibly a sign of an alcohol problem. I threw up in the sewer grates next to his stand
I gurantee you I'll be the only one dressed as a giraffe.
By the way, i got bored and just started putting my balls on every object in your room. One at a time.
He ran around the party with a broken foot/ankle with a gallon of Malibu yelling "it must rain coconut"
It's now 8:05 on a Wednesday night and I'm already going home with my bra in my purse.
If I ever see that bitch it is going down flavor of love style
I think the worst part about being a real adult is 1)having a high stress job that makes me want to get stoned 2)paying for reefer using my own money 3)realizing my boyfriends children probably have more weed connections than I do anymore
Nothing like sunday church bells to aid your walk to the pharmacy to get plan b
All I remember is being in the middle of the road puking and my bestfriend cheering me on from the passenger seat...
My boob job is like a master key that gets me in any door, any party and anyone’s pants! They’re magical!
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