I woke up this morning really drunk with my Christmas lights on and two owls in my bed.
I just had a dream where Bob Saget recognized me from when I hung out with him in a dream I had months ago.
All we had was a keg so we played edward nalgene-hands
Peed in a church parking lot last night. As if Jesus didnt hate me enough already.
Swallowing. Like you said. Lions. Always.
It's official, I need to start putting my vagina's needs before my own.
Sat in the shower and reenacted the "Wiggle your big toe" scene from Kill Bill. THAT hungover.
I'm pretty sure "tag teaming" and "looking for stability" are not synonymous.
Not yet.
I'm taking a leave of absence and sending myself to fat camp. I'll let you know when I'm out.
I was thinking about the biological process causing me to puke while I was puking. THAT'S how much I'd been studying.
You need to stop telling people you gained weight over the holidays. You've been fat since July.
I'll just give him your contact info, and you'll somehow manage to get laid. Which will make me feel like your vagina's agent or something.
There is a special place in hell for people who only eat the center of the pot brownies.
Did I turn a man straight...??
Yes!
Do not let Mike show you his naughty Santa Claus outfit. It's a super long beard and crotchless pants.
Randomize
