I am the Bobby Fisher of drunk asss puking
I have way too much money in my bra to be responsible.
You are the patron saint of my drinking problem.
It involved homemade coconut rum, a waterfall, and street signs. I'll leave the rest to your capable imagination.
we had a ceremony where you passed your fake id onto me in the middle of the bar. i was on my knees and you presented it to me. i don't think the bartenders were suspicious though
High gym went like this: I went to Dairy Queen instead.
It was like in the Christmas carol when the guy pulls his robe back and 2 small children appear... except this time it was a massive scrotum
What was the point of renting a $600 trolley if no one even remembers going to the first bar?
If they were bad they leave that night, if they were good they get a gold star, and if they were great they get invited back. Simple.
I thought it was improvement but then i realized sex isn't an emotion and I hate everyone
I couldn't find a lighter, so I smoked a bowl with a birthday candle.
I want to sit on top of her nipple mountains and reenact the Ricola commercial.
You leaned over to me in the elevator and whispered "how long do I have to pretend to be sober?"
Can we just agree for a moment that semen in your sinuses is the fucking worst?
Just told my dad about my heroic mailbox showdown. He looked at me strange. I think he thinks I'm high.
You are high.
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