So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
You know its going to be a good homecoming when you beer bong a mimosa at 6am.
This was worse than the time that I shot a bald eagle.
Day two of taking my adderall. I just organized the pantry and alphabetized my dvds. I've missed my mind on drugs
you're surprised the chick that fucked you for a free cup has herpes. i don't feel bad for you.
You couldn't stand up so I took you home, took off your makeup, put you to bed then shaved off your eyebrows. I so nearly won the responsible adult prize.
You passed out in my bathroom last night. I put a towel over your face so I could shit without it being gay
sitting on my lesbian neighbors couch, sexting, & eating a burrito.. that single
Also I legit had a girl at my bar crying tonight saying to her friend "why did he have to take his top off ?"
the reason i can drink whatever i want and you have a limit is because whiskey will never make my pussy not work
The thought "Ummm which pants am I wearing? ...I *am* wearing pants, right?" just ran through my head. I'm done. So done.
For dinner, I'm having saltines, canned whipped cream, and beer. Are we sure I'm responsible enough for home ownership?
PS there is a naked boy in my bed and I just left for the bar...
No one wants to start their day off with bloody lemons and a tampon in the toilet. Wtf.
RICK FUCKING MORANIS!!!!!
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