a guy in a toll booth on I-90 told me to fuck off for not being a red sox fan. i am going to miss massachusetts very much.
so i walked in, looked up the stairs and all i saw was smashed pumpkin, tube socks, and marinara sauce
these 2 russian guys walked past me and i got freaked out because i thought call of duty got real
the brownie started to kick in before i finished the essay... it became a race against my own increasing intoxication
he came over wasted, used the bathroom, drank some water, and fell asleep holding my hand. what kind of a fuck buddy does that??
we had to stop you from eating moldy cake.. twice.
We need to stop sleeping with people based on which NFL team they like.
Just took last nights make up off with a sock. That hungover.
Because I can't get laid, I'm day-drinking and hunting squirrels in the backyard. You can take the girl out of Montana...
I shit myself. Legit. And I burnt my tongue. Unrelated incidents, but related in the sense of general discomfort.
the bad thing about being great at twerking is that I'm powerless to stop myself from doing it when I'm drunk and in public.
You also once spent an entire hour explaining the origin of the strip steak to me.
I got a snap of someone jumping off a light pole. Was that you? Please confirm or deny. #onWisconsin
Did you leave it the depths of Magic Mike's favorite banana hammock?
you're not celebrating your 21st birthday right unless you give a male stripper a hand job, flash the bartender, and win a free vibrator.
Randomize
