It made me feel like I need a reality show of my life so I could go back and watch the episodes to figure out how I got from the trunk of the car to my neighbors tree house...
STOP SENDING ME DANCING JESUS FORWARDS.
He was drinking a long island through his Breathalyzer tube.
i think he was starting go for a boob grab when we both realized the middle of a public tennis court wasn't the place
I was tripping so hard I was disappointed when I pulled back the shower curtain and shrek wasn't standing there
That little tingle vodka gives me in my esphagus is what lets me know I'm still alive.
That's cool. At least the punch line of my story isn't I shit in a booth at Denny's.
After getting all 4 of my wisdom teeth removed I asked my dentist how much better would I be at head
I just drove my booty call to his booty call, if that isn't spreading the love, I don't know what is.
I'm only fucking women born in the 90s this summer
At least your road beer policy is responsible. Well, relatively speaking.
I've now fucked in every motel room in this small town.
To be fair, this is a tequila-while-rewatching-Benedict-Cumberbatch-as-Van-Gogh idea, so I don't know if it will hold up tomorrow.
I'll be wearing lingerie and holding a bottle of bourbon so pick up whatever food you think goes with that
I often wonder if we’re introverted extroverts, but I don’t think so. I think we’re just easily tired scumbags
Randomize
