A relator touring our house this week saw the picture in our bathroom of steven passed out, yellow faced, with BALLS on his forehead, and had to ask "if that kid was alive or dead".
But besides the pee thing, he sounds like a nice guy.
Turned out the thing on the lampshade was a bloodstain, not a bedbug. We feel much safer now.
If I wake up with an unknown penis in me one more time I am literally going to press charges to the makers of tequila.
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This wedding is gonna be a disaster. I already had to turn down one of the groomsmen who offered me $100 to sleep with him next wknd.
Too low?
Yes.
sea world and a strip club? BEST DAY EVER!
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about lube and such, but why are we?
Alright, text me when you get close. I've got a mustache and I'm ready to get my day drunk on.
There is a hatefuck that has the destruction level of an atom bomb raging through my viens just aching to vaporize her.
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And to add, there was a fat guy right next to me who, when the girls would shake their butts, he would let out a shrill xena warrior princess cheer
that's the second time I've made out with him and woken up with my pants stuffed with PBRs I am convinced he's magic
You leaned over to me in the elevator and whispered "how long do I have to pretend to be sober?"
the wedding party just walked in to the song eye of the tiger. i'm getting drunk.
I have to close one eye, because I don't wanna see two movies, I only want to see one.
Mass text: dear whatever jerk off who thinks they stole drugs from me. It was birth control. Go fuck yourself. And pray that I don't get pregnant.
Who puts their birth control in a bottle with a smiley face?!
Oh fuck wait
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