So I'm eating my burger minding my own business, when the guy next to me starts up a conversation. Seemed normal at first, stocks, bonds, etc...then he said...and I quote "I can push a bowling-ball up a flight of stairs with my tongue." As I awkwardly laughed he broke out "I bet you I could bite the head off of a rabbit."
What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
I just scrubbed chocolate off the bathtub... You better have had a damn good birthday
How is it I was the last to know everyone calls me tig ole bitties? Did y'all have a meeting about this that I wasn't invited to?
Didn't know what to wear so I ripped off my bed sheets and tied myself a toga. "a little hungover" is no way to describe me right now.
Side note... I would pay good money to have witnessed the reaction of onlookers as I sprinted down Armtiage with a 15 lb bag of peanuts under my arm
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
Oh my god did you actually lose a tooth
I don't need to know how horny your mother is, hun.
I don't know how that blunt survived being in your pocket all night but you pulled it out at 4 am in 7/11 and tried to fire it up. Zero fucks given
Last night I watered my lawn and smoked a joint then cooked a steak. I'm really killing this adulthood thing.
You're going to find someone that you love very much and that loves you, and then you're gonna find an additional person that you literally can't stop staring at from across the room. I feel very confidently about that
I just want a simple guy who likes cats, tattoos, and doing coke off my tits.
Fun fact: deep throating plus dehydration plus eating a lot of citrus = my throat is fucked. Metaphorically and physically.
You got up in the middle of a sentence, puked, came out and poured another glass of wine and continued your story.
Randomize
