Annabeth just got on the bar and slurred something about how she was worried that when she started dating you your penis wouldnt fit. You are one lucky bastard my friend.
I may or may not have just sent the bartender a pic of me in my slutty cheerleader costume with the caption "rah rah ree, gimme yo d"
As if me making pizza in a skillet wasn't enough proof that I was in no state to be cooking, this burn blister on my hand is
I can coach you back to consumption. Think of it kinda like Rocky II.
Quick question. What's the protocol on going back to a bar after going home with one of their bartenders?
Go back and try to find another to go home with.
There is a large, jolly black gentleman in the parking lot of my appartment complex yelling about 5am jelly doughnuts. I want to be where he's at.
All I know is that either you or I told a black guy that he looked like usher and he was sexy and that is our confession
I guess our biggest consolation is that we haven't woken up in a hottub with a dead dude. Yet.
And then as he was trying to conceal his boner from everybody, you said aloud "just grab your cock and get out of the pool"
I know this request is pointless but you two please try to keep the drinking and drug use to a minimal, I have bail money so write my number on your arm and a "if found call", wear a life jacket and act like a responsible 28 year old please.
Stripper pole. Sore legs. More vaca money.
He told me that if his bed could talk, it'd write a medical journal. Guess it's too late to worry about that now.
It's been a wonderful constant drunkeness. We played Marco polo with some random like 8 yr olds in the kiddie pool.
Operation liquormelon is in full effect. We may die tonight.