Drunk x Brooklyn = problems getting home. If I don't make it you can have my computer and my bitches. You're welcome.
We can make salsa ya know, maybe even some hot sauce. That doesn't mean we're married.
his blackberry tasks were 1. take names and 2. kick ass
My body isn't even mad at me...just disappointed
aaaannd alcoholism beats pride. it's like grown-up rock, paper, scissors
remember the used condom we threw behind my bed? my mom found it and is accusing me and making a big deal out of it,
Haha! You pissed me off, so I actually told her to go look behind your bed. Good thing I moved to Nevada, so your dad can't kick my ass. Good luck bitch.
no, no, no. omg. i said i wanted a SANDWICH! not a picture of your dick. damn cant you read? SANDWICH! now im blinded. great job.
In case this wasn't clear when i said being his wingman was "hopeless", his date walked out on him when he poured a beer on his head trying to shotgun it
If it's any consolation, your boobs looked awesome.
He's the kind you'd bring home and you'd wake up and all your food would be half eaten on the kitchen floor and all your socks would be missing.
They were so big her bra clasped in the front. Didn't even know those existed.
So I told him it takes a lot to get me drunk & he said he was the heavyweight champion in college. We high-fived. Obviously I'm the favorite child.
At tuba camp, the pickings are slim. It's like being the tallest midget.
I'm fine with our borderline lesbian behavior.
All I remember thinking is, why the fuck are there martians on the ceiling? And they were riding fruit. Like strawberries and shit.
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