Fun fact: when I ripped off my wristband, I punched myself in the face. Rad
Pretty sure I only gave out my other # though. You know, 777 777-7777
Hahaha. So was it a Freudian slip, or wishful thinking? ;)
Could be either seeing as you're in my phone as "3rd bar" and I couldn't pick you outta a line up.
I put my bosses number in my phone as "Do not call," I shouldve known my drunk curiosity would overcome any desire I had to keep my job.
again?
Cleveland boys shit in their own pumpkins in their own living room. Got pictures to prove it.
I guess I should mention that I have already fucked the Fed Ex guy.
That changes everything.
and unfortunately for you, hallmark doesnt make a "sorry i was getting a blowie in the backseat of your car while you were driving, projectiled my jizz onto your hand, and caused you to crash" card
So I have the hangover from hell, spent all night puking, and there's a septic tank truck parked outside the house literally pumping shit. You win God.
Only time i ever look at my online banking statement is to see when i left the bar.
Put down the bong. Turn off Hey Arnold. Stop calling me football head.
I love you football head
And i'll likely end up sleeping in a bush wrapped up in my poncho
And then you refused to pee in anything but a sink
the fact that you trapped hornets in a mailing tube to put in his mailbox does not surprise me sadly.
Note to self: never fuck a Canadian, surprisingly highly disappointing
Oh and he asked if I would occasionally still blow him if we had children. It was so romantic.
You are hungover. Your arguments are irrational an incoherent. We only played twice. Have some Gatorade and take a knee.
Randomize
