I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
On the plus side I got to ride in a fire truck and I didn't have to blow anybody for it
Apparently I was the fucked up drunk guy greeting people at the hotel in the lobby last night.
He's telling everyone that the only reason he's at this party is to hook up with me. SOS HELP.
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James this is colleen. This is my new number. You just texted my grandma about getting cockblocked. Congratulations.
She had a cast on when I met her, but she blamed me for breaking her arm this morning. I'm gonna marry this girl.
Please collect your boy friend. He semi-passed out on the couch and trying to grab bums as people walk by. Anyone's bum, he's not choosy.
I'm about 95% it's a collapsed lung. Go big right?
He went snooping and now he's all intimidated by my super amazing box of sexy time toys.
Please stop calling it that.
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That's a lot of judgement coming from a man wearing a dress made from a bedsheet.
I literally cut myself out of my pants. What is my life.
Took my plan b at Costco today, sample Sunday for the win.
I have dined. Now I want to get fucked.
Congratulations on giving me my first and second hickeys last night. I made it almost 30 years without one, but who needs class these days?
Give me the sexing that I truly desire and I will reveal to you the mysterious location of the PBR's
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