What the hell am I supposed to do with 50 gallons of mayo?
i just had 3 doubles lined up on top of a urinal, texting with one hand and my dick in the other. I an fucking awesome.
I just stuffed five dollars in my near empty box of camels to remind myself to buy more. And my mom says I don't budget my money
I feel bad for the person that has to clean the dishes that I peed on last night.
You just kept mumbling, "Shit shit shit, the muffin man owes me money." Repeatedly.
You wrote me a letter and I cannot make out anything you wrote except the last sentence which says "tell the wolf ill meet him at sunset and that I'm sorrry"
Even the paramedic said "what a way to kill a party"
I have a huge gash on my chin. Did I get it from A) a mini siezure; B) an oral sex incident; C) Slamming it into a ledge or; D) all of the above?
I feel like someone kicked me repeatedly in the ribs. I don't think sex is supposed to do that.
If I believed in "responsibility" and "having limits", I would probably say I consumed too much alcohol in the last 48 hours
I have the relationship skills of Miley Cyrus and I could've said this was a bad idea
She's got Mike in the bathroom. He's covered in meat.
I never want to even look at fireball again because it reminds me of the night I died and then lived to tell the tale of how I died.
Matt is trying to convince me that we have a deal where if I show him my tits he won't do cocaine. Apparently we shook hands on it?
That butt dial turned into a booty call.
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