it doesn't mae me god, the fact that I am god makes getting dressed futile and tedious... btw i am still drunk
I'm sitting at the bar eating dinner next to a nerd, a guy in a 10 gallon hat, and a policeman. I feel like I joined The Village People
we woke up to him feeding us cheetos at 3am. and by feeding i mean shoving them in our mouths and saying "i mean who doesn't like cheetos"
I HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU AND ITS NOT MY VAGINA
I have no words
Neither did my mom, when she walked in on me squating with my balls in a cup of hot water.
Apparently while trying to get up from vomiting in the toilet I grabbed the seat cover for leverage and smashed my own head between it and the bowl. I don't remember this.
She's wearing her dead grandmother's pearl on the married finger so no guys "bother her" tonight... I am not THAT committed to Girl's Night.
Who knows? Maybe we can sing afternoon delight into each other's genitals.
I think I reached some stage of aging, have a sore/injured shoulder from sex, next up carpal tunnel from sexting.
That moment when you cant decide between eating spaghetti or a Popsicle for breakfast
Drunkenly tried to auction off Merik's pancakes at Ihop. Apparently I make a great auctioneer. Also, no one wants 30 cent pancakes.
I just walked past a guy banging a chick in the back of his car.
Is it bad that I want a job purely so I can buy drugs with without feeling like I am sacrificing my future?
Why do you think I have a job?
oh and apparently my boobs are named "have no fear" and "plenty o'beer"
Oh, btw, UPS might come by. Drunk me ordered us $75 worth of gummy airhead starburst type candies. Whatever it is, it'll be delicious.
Randomize
