The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
Miracle whip is the devil's jizz.
no more hot dogs for you........
fine no more vajj for you
You passed out in the bathroom with the door locked. Had to take a shit in your litter box. Don't worry, your cat buried it for me.
He kept saying that the puke outside the theater wasn't his and it was all a set up to keep him from partying with the whores. Then he passed out on the sidewalk.
I am literally missing a chunk of eyelashes. That's how fun it was.
Get to the bar. Power hour leading up to the rapture.
Literally everyone in the bar was absolutely hammered out of their minds. I swear I even saw the bartender swigging jd when he thought no one was looking. And there was me thinking Britain was the booziest nation in the world.
Welcome to America. You're gonna love it.
Last night I was this close to hooking up with someone called "Handjob Pat" dubbed for the time he paid $150 for a handjob in Canada.
I want to get "Patrick Kane" wasted tonight
I am one hundred percent down for that
Visibly drunk girl eating alone at a souplantation just spilled salad all over her body. It was me
a guy just skateboarded past my window in a bunny suit while chased by a dog walker
He didn't even get to the first chorus of Hotel California before he started convulsing on top of me.
I wanna suck that fisherman's dick.
Thrres cinnamon everywgte. Plead cine get me
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