Like all of my pajamas are shirts of guys I shacked with in college
Well we can cross off dogs, dating sites, and real life as ways to help you meet a chick.
Apparently I think casual Friday means I can show up unshaven in yesterday's clothes and reeking of booze.
I've spent too much of my life staring at my bberry and counting to 5 to see if it blinks
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
I know it's not your turn to do the dishes, but since they're covered in your puke, it is.
He's more than prepared to help us move. Dude brought sunscreen, cans of Coke, and Captain Morgan.
I'm covered in egg mcmuffin wrappers and my room smells like dead hooker.
I thought you should know that there is a scientific law stating that when there is booze, people talk about your dick.
Just threw up. It looks like I may have swallowed a cigarette.
The best part about living in a college town is the annual rush of senior girls who want to get in their lesbian experiment before they graduate.
Just FYI, by the transitive property my breasts have now touched the Stanley Cup.
so at 3am I stumbled into my parents house and crawled into bed with them, I need to start dating.
I have a vagina. So i automatically win.
It was like he was 23 all over again. Madness. I. was. so. scared.
Randomize
