We were so bored at work tonight that we were in dry storage taking turns pouring the boxed wine we use for cooking into each others' mouths. I think I'm starting to understand the "problem" aspect of "drinking problem."
thank god he doesn't hang out with everyone else i've had sex with
well, yeah, he can't fit the whole neighborhood in his apartment
When I told my boss I'm using a vacation day for 4/20, he gave me his personal cell phone number and winked at me.
sometimes i wish i had boobs. not on me. just like in a drawer.
He was just laying on the stairs and then screamed, "Is that a clubhouse?" I haven't seen him since
i'm just sitting here going through her tagged pics, covering up different parts of her face to try and figure out exactly what it is that makes her so ugly.
I never want to hear the words unlimited shots for boobs in the same sentence ever again.
I'm sports announcer narrating myself making a sandwich. Your weed wins.
I'm in Starbucks carrying the boxes wine and the hubcap. So many judging looks.
I don't understand how these people can do extreme gymnastics and I have problems walking up the stairs.
You're going to be mad because I got baked, but not that mad because I'm bringing home kfc.
Then you're three pancakes deep in regret.
Just walked past the field playing Jesus music with a fanny pack full of condoms and beer. Happy Sunday.
What shade of lipstick clearly states, I'm only attending this wedding for the drugs and groomsmen?
Drinking at 10 in the morning and swimming might not be the best idea I've ever had but it beats working
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