Get to the bar. Power hour leading up to the rapture.
Hung over does not do it justice. I am hung like a horse over. I am hungover and over and over. I am hung, drawn and quartered fucking over. They just told me I can't keep my sunglasses on in the office. Fuck drinking with you people.
Tranny group. Dance off. Horse hair and dicks swinging. I. Cant. Unsee. This.
Thing I actually said tonight: "I want to achieve Ultimate level drunkenness, I'm only at Champion"
So, settle a debate for my housemates. Have you measured your dick. And how long. Results Will not be disclosed
So the woman who sold us weed at the park is pregnant. With another small child. And the basket she used to carry the joints is decorated with Barney stickers.
She's like a yuppie Nancy Botwin. She just gets better and better.
"I'm not drinking any more tonight." As I dipped my quesadilla in a shot of tequila....then eats it
i just smoked marajunia from a shotgun barrell. what have you done today?
Best thing I ever did was get a dog. She's like a living trip alarm to warn me of visitors while I'm masturbating.
I'm disgusted with myself. I feel like I need 10 boxes of Summer's Eve and a baptism.
Crust to egg proportion prescribes to a pedantic form of quiche. It's like saying breakfast pizza isn't pizza at all.
I still have that dildo-suction bruise on my forehead and this sweater STILL smells like my Christmas Eve vomit.
He did a backflip because drugs
I yelled at your uterus for you.
Access to a Target is paramount to my general happiness and self-worth.
Randomize
