So yesterday I was on craigslist and I saw a listing for a sofa-cum-bed. I knew what they meant...
turns out the website for Dick's Sporting goods is not "dicks.com". It was a win either way.
So I've officially decided that I AM that drunken mistake that girls hate themselves for in the morning.
Damn it if I pass out in the bathroom one more time this month im going to rehab...
I walked downstairs and he was standing in nothing but his boxers with his dick hanging out warming up eggs in the microwave.
I'm writing my will in case I die this week, it'll be saved on my computer under: little 500 death scenario
I just had a vision of confetti exploding out of someone's vagina to the sound of air horns... I think that would be welcoming.
I like the way you think.
I barely remember the girls that I got pregnant, you think I'm gunna remember the ones that played handball
And after that you guys started calling arbor mist "breakfast juice"
I woke up to my one night stand and he said, "now that's the one to beat"
I have banged to "The Emperor's New Groove" way more than could possibly be reasonable.
We need to borrow someone's dog. Just so we can non-creepily go to PetSmart and watch all the other dogs take photos with Santa
Lady Gaga is doing the 1/2 time show. I hope it's gay and liberal as fuck.
I'm not complaining, but why is it that every time I hang out with you I come home with random injuries and random girls?
Well I thought I saw everything and then I saw Christmas themed poop bags at Petco.
Randomize
