Martha Stewart would most definitely roll a great joint.
You were waisted for 48 hours and the only 3 words you said were yup, sure, and michigan
We left the bar, went to a sex shop, bought penis shotglasses, went back to the bar and insisted that the bartender used them.
Apparently she buried shit in the snow back in January and now that it's melted I found a flip flop, 4 spoons, a bottle of smirnoff, and 14 different candy bars
after last night my drinking related hospital bracelet collection is up to 13
I'm going to tattoo a maze on my back for the next fucker that tries to blow early ....
Better than road-head. Just got model-home-head. Also got a disapproving scowl of judgment from the realtor on the way out.
Tried making out with pop rocks in my mouth. That shit is magical.
Apparently drunk me thought it was time for a career change. I woke up with a message from Mcdonalds saying that I was hired as the new cashier.
This isn't just a hangover. I can feel the blood moving through my veins, and it hurts.
I was going to ask the people in the kitchen to keep the volume down, but they're cooking pasta at 3 AM and one complimented me on my polka-dot nightgown. They're high. No volume control.
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
You offered the police officer a Snickers ice cream bar and cried when he wouldn't take it...
The moral of the story is this:the last shot of the night is always a mistake
I keep worrying the police are going to come looking for us.
For which one? Starting a fire on my porch or having sex on my porch?
Randomize
