3:40 am: you never wrote back on my facebook wall
so high driving around just saw a woman in a pink shirt chillin riding a horse
so high at work that a 35 year old with his kids handed me visine and winked at me. you win with the horse though
Ive either hit rock bottom or become my own hero.
That's ok. Our relationship has a solid foundation of booze and questionable behavior.
DON'T BE A PUSSY. ONLY 1/3 OF THE WORDS IN YOUR LAST TEXT WERE MISSPELLED, WHICH MEANS YOU NEED 2/3 MORE SHOTS.
a kid puked on the floor and instead of, you know, cleaning it they cut a square out of the carpet with a boxcutter and threw it outside
In this town being related to a brewing family or the owner of a sports team is like being royalty. It's like hooking up with the queen's nephew or something.
I'm like 87% sure some random guy starting biting my ear after grinding me for like 30 seconds... I feel suprisingly unconcerned
He's not messing around tonight. 4 fist pumps.
you missed 2am bagpipes and my roommate looking hot as fuck in a kilt
i don't remember much about your party last weekend but i remember you being so drunk you were crying in your driveway about pickles at four am
I just had to pick up my "let's drink and make bad choices" hat, my banana suit and beer pong table from work. Until just then I couldn't figure out why I got fired.
This is not a drill. I need a cape. And a tuxedo. Simultaneously. Repeat. NOT. A. DRILL....
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
And my butt misses you like the deserts miss the rain.
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