my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
apparently the officer said last night, "son, why don't you do yourself a favor and spread your legs so you don't keep vomiting on them". why can't I remember those nights?!
I guess we had a small kitchen fire somehow when we decided to bake fruitroll ups and croutons...
You ruined his night from a different state? Impressive.
Just made my alarm the Lion King song. Too excited about waking up to sleep.
dad just smoked me out. he's yelling at room service for not giving him cookies and milk with his towels...we're both too high to know if thats a legit complaint.
Sorry if I put you in that 'glad we're hanging out but I'm gonna go fuck your cousin' kind of position
Security said no more parties of this kind. To me that translates to Theme party this weekend.
Time flies when you're blacked out in a lake
I have better things to do with my life than be faithful.
Just realized I'm still chewing the same gum post blow job. This Stride shit really has everlasting flavor. They should totally have an ad campaign based on blow jobs.
So we hooked up and then instead of texting me, he endorsed me on LinkedIn for Microsoft Word a few days later
there's a 50/50 chance the night will end in alcohol-induced rituals of satanic nature
I just ate broccoli before drinking. Does that make me a responsible adult?
I remember yelling at him telling him that the strippers were "nice people."
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