BEES IN MY FUCKING PANTS. HELP.
I went outside for a smoke at 4 and things seemed normal. It's 6 now and the front lawn is COVERED in tortilla chips. WTF?
gay flight attendant. racoons. kegels. bartender with missing teeth. too many birthdays. fucckk.
They fucked on my pong table last St. Patty's and broke it. I feel like I should be hiding my new one. Would hate for a tradition to form.
This place smells like bottom shelf liquor and broken dreams
Nothing quite says Coachella like me doing high yoga in the middle of a field by myself
Some clips from last night: grinded like I haven't since college. Took shots with a bartender with a bad ass mustache. Made up a string of lies with fake names and occupations. Slept behind the couch with pizza in my hand
I was at the pharmacy picking up my herpes medication and the pharmacist asked if I had any questions about my medicine, looked at the bottle, and laughed. Insult to injury man.
You invented a drink at the bar and named it Boner Soup. It was like an even trashier version of a long island iced tea
National champion athletes like gay butt sex, too. I'm just here to help them out.
Nothing like a little chlamydia diagnosis to ring in the new year
I told the cop I was late for a booty call. He still gave me a ticket but he wrote his number on it
I woke up to the smell of shame and vomit in my hair... went to the bathroom to shower and passed out... woke back up naked with the blow dryer on... thanks for making my birthday a success
hey can you come unlock the basement door? I'm trapped in here.
no I can't, you're a safety hazard. but, there's a beer keg down there somewhere. we don't have cups, but help yourself.
All of a sudden he got that look on his face and ran to the dance floor and started fist pumping to Rihanna that kind of night
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