I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
The worst thing that has ever happened to me happened today. I was taking donations at goodwill and someone donated a clearly used vibrator
a drug dealer just gave me his business card. it had his face on it drinking a 40oz
Her underwear doesnt even match. If youre going to be a face book whore at least have matching shit.
I just wanted to yell " i am not a shake weight!!"
We need to stop sleeping with people based on which NFL team they like.
We sat in his closet and drank four loko out of my camelbak for an hour in the dark. You tell me how my night went.
Europe's "the final countdown" was playing. It was pretty much amnesty for anything that might happen the rest of the night. It's a rule.
I don't think we had sex because when I woke up he was still wearing the chicken suit.
I think I just wrote a poem about your penis but it was totally unintentional.
I now have a bottom rung on my kissing scale. Like I can say "Well. On a scale of Matt to Braxton he was probably a Zach." It's the little things.
Executive order 941: BRING ME THE FINEST PANCAKES!
You have got to stop watching the West Wing before going out.
Apparently I've texted the word shitfucked so much it auto-completes it now.
I rewired his car so that every time he hits the gas the horn and the OnStar turn on every time he hits the brake the panic alarm goes off.
I woke up under the kitchen table. Andy is cursing out Joe Exotic's name in between heaves in the bathroom. Jay is trying to sleep w/ a shirt tied over his eyes. Lena and Brad braved the sun to go get bloody mary supplies and food. I'd say the Tiger King drinking game was a success.
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