What the fuck I just showed up to court still drunk and the judge told me I smelled like his wife
you were watching a documentary about sharks and wouldn't stop stroking my legs and whispering "what if they could walk?"
It's like alcoholism for beginners at my kitchen table.
I told him the truth. Truth leads to vodka. Vodka leads to tequila. Tequila leads to prison.
Wait wait wait. I remember riding in her car to the next bar. On your lap. With my head on the dashboard. That probably should have been my cut off point.
She shouted out halfway through "that costume does nothing to hide your cock". Last time we let her drink at the theatre.
I think this agreement was sent by God. I get to do my own thing, get laid, and he still makes me breakfast in the morning.
Im just using you for your dick and your superb survival skills if needed.
I ran into a hotel and told the doorman he was doing a great job. That was before you cried on my jacket.
I immediately regret the tequila decision.
yeah, I'm getting gagged by the cock of fate
I just stole a bunch of balloons from a birthday party and am giving one to each person at the bar.
Remind me to NEVER AGAIN mix beer with tequila with beer with whiskey with vodka with rum with vodka.
I just mixed tangerine juice with sauv blanc. on an unrelated note, my episide of intervention is slated to run in April.
why is there a porcupine in the kitchen
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