I pretty much can't stop smiling when I talk to you. Even when you talk about disease and infectious diarrhea.
I have decided that a Nickelback cover band would be the pinnacle of loserdom.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
two words...techno handjob
i did the responsible thing and pissed myself...
the last thing i remember is ordering pitchers of white russians....
I just don't want to have to pretend at every family function she brings him to that he didn't hit on me first
You always know it is going to end badly when a guy asks if he met you at a "coed naked lawn bowling party"
NEVER LET ME DO THIS AGAIN I FEEL LIKE I'M GONNA SHIT MYSELF TO DEATH ARGHHHHHGHHG IS THIS WHAT DYSENTERY FEELS LIKE
I got carried to one bar. Got a piggy back ride to the next bar. I was just testing our drinking team for st pattys day to make sure they are able to handle me more drunk than that.
The word cocktail makes me want to rip my liver out and nail it to a cross.
Running my fingers through my hair is like that scene from Patch Adams where the girl goes swimming in a pool of spaghetti. I love molly.
Just got hit on by a 28-year old, quadraplegic, triple-cancer-survivor redneck. Now updating bucket list to meet newfound standards.
He tried to do a JoJo pose and wound up breaking his wrist in the process. Truly a story for the ages.
New rock bottom. Woke up at 7 am fully clothed in a bathtub full of water. I hate myself.
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