Just sold all of my pants in order to buy tonight's whiskey. Goodbye, high functioning alcoholism. Hello, Dad.
I just fucked a rockette. This would have been amazing a week ago.
You said you didn't deserve to walk so you started crawling down to your room
theres so much semen in my vacuum cleaner...
her cat was choking so she kept trying to stick her finger in her cat's mouth while saying "it's okay kitty, just do what mommy does"
Please don't be alarmed by the blood on my arms and phone in the morning. It's not mine.
I shit you not ... they just advertised a recruiting service for strippers at this concert.
This is Jewish guilt versus Irish Catholic guilt. We should tread carefully, or we could fuck up the space-time continuum or something.
I'm okay with that.
Btw his name is Woody. I must be really drunk to think this is a good situation
I don't think I've ever met a guy with a bush bad enough that I would choose a cactus over it.
Dude I'm hungover as fuck in a bed in Baltimore with another man... I don't think I can make it.
You screamed out "happy birthday Jesus" followed by chugging Bacardi straight out the bottle
I don't remember that much at all. But I guess I met this guy from New Zealand and his dog, and then I punched someone in the face.
Dear in laws. I am not spending any holidays with you. I dislike your company. A lot.
Forget about letting a 70-year-old man suck on my tits for coke... telling my new boyfriend about it was the poor life choice.
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