Dude, dont worry about the lamb fetus in the fridge.
What?
Just dont open the beer drawer.
I don't care. I'm going to fuck John's friend and it's all your fault.
And for the fourth year in a row Christmas has ended in tears, yelling and me drinking. This is officially our longest running Christmas tradition.
Drag queen told me that I have the cheek bones to do drag. That's supposed to boost my moral.
In college, I had one standard. Penis. A lot has changed since then. Now I really only have one standard. Breathing.
After the party last night, I dreamt I continued drinking... Apparently my subconscious didn't think I'd had enough...
there's a girl on facebook trying to buy me a pizza. I can't say no... right?
That moment when the line ‘If you want a hot body you better work bitch’ in Britney Spears’ new song comes on as you’re using two forks to shovel enchilada into your mouth.
I knew my bag made it because I could smell the fireball that spilled inside of my suitcase before it was on the luggage carousel.
In unrelated news guys should not ask what I'm doing/wearing if they can't handle an honest answer. I'm not pretending I'm not sitting on the couch in yoga pants watching Community so you can beat off.
Man I was just the closest I've ever been to crapping my pants.
I'm a great relationship counselor. My vagina will let you know if your relationship is gonna work or not.
Jealous. I want an iud. Maybe there's a late night bodega that'll insert one for me
When we get drunk one of us ends up running off and fucking someone in an inappropriate place, like the roof of the restaurant, or Greece, while the other convinces people not to worry and not to go looking. That good sir is a real mother fucking friendship.
Thats what I'm talking about
The Adderall says yes, but my body says no.
Randomize
