I wish Morgan Freeman narrated my life.
the level of his annoyance + every insult he makes = the closer I am to telling him im fucking his ex
I don't think requesting him as a BBM contact is proper protocol following vomming in his bed.
I'm sitting by myself in my bra eating a waffle and drinking pineapple rum. gamedaaaayyyyyyy
thats what you get for writing a paper after liquor pitchers
its only a rough draft.
maybe almost giving yourself a concussion counter acts a hangover
I cant do that to my vagina yet. its my prize posession.
All I can remember is being told by a guy named Kyle to stay in the corner until the cops left. Then waking up on a porch outlined in beer cans 8 blocks from my house. Pregaming for college.
Why was there a 1000 piece puzzle covered in hot sauce being cooked in the microwave?
He woke up & asked where his pants were then asked where he was then asked who I was. Been married 20 yrs. He was drunkest ever.
Everyone thinks I'm sleeping but I'm actually just melting.
But don't thank me for faking being asleep, if I was the real wing man, I would have left the bed
My ass is underappreciated
I wish I could accurately explain the embarrassment of standing in your bathroom with women's nair on your ass waiting to get in the shower.
I had to carry him up the hill while he was wearing nothing but knee high socks and a blue glitter sequin leotard.
Why is this not a picture message?
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