I swear to god Optimus Prime and Megatron are fighting in my head right now.
Dude, you really need to stop hitting on girls by telling them you sang a cappella in college.
Answer the phone when I call you in a second. Just got pulled over for getting road head, going to secretly put you on speaker phone, this should be good
after you threw up, you tried to prove you were sober by reading the ingredients off the shampoo bottles
the last thing i remember saying is "hope you like body hair"
Get to the bar. Power hour leading up to the rapture.
He said i looked like a shooting star sprawled out on the floor while i puked and i kept blaming "senor cuervo" for doing me dirty.
Saw on the news tonight that Hamilton county's syphilis rate is 9x the national average...use protection!
Thanks, mom.
Monday: I just need a drink Tuesday: OMG no more this week! Wednesday: oh shit how'd I get drunk Thursday: I'm glad you've stopped the pretenses
This santa hat i wore to the bar, served it's dual purpose as a vomit bag.
It feels like there's puke trying to explode out of me from behind my eyeballs.
Everyone else in class agrees the weed smell is coming from me
I can't even express how horny I am. The English language isn't equipped for what I'm plotting.
He just sent me the contact information about getting the Zebra for graduation...
The perfect man would keep a whisky sour in my hand and give me endless sex. I really don't think that's too much to ask for.
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