So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
You know, sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to sparkle motion.
Why did that cocktail waitress get to sleep with Tiger for 2 years, and all I ever got for living in Whorelando for five years is a couple of pictures with Joey Fatone
Now there's vomit covered trash all over the front lawn. I feel accomplished
But why is there no point in liking him? Does he have herpes? Is he married? Is he gay? Did he get his penis chopped off in a freak accident? If the answer is no to all of the above, then he is fair game
My walk of shame was far more interesting today. He's moving and was cleaning out his apartment, so not only was I carrying my clothes, I also walked away with 4 bottles of cheap wine and a jar of ragu.
He blacked out at the first bar and passed out at the second...we just carried him to bar three and four and sat him in the lounge chairs, he said we're amazing
He is like a dragon that makes me want to spread my butt cheeks, so he can fill me with hot fire.
She put a shot in my mouth and then hit me with a pillow..
Do you remember when you first moved into my parents house with me and we came home to find that my dad bolted the headboard to the wall
she chased shots of jack with a fucking steak. i'm in love.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
Clearly you need to take sleeping pills and put your phone in the toilet
I just took a picture of Austin's dick wearing a hat. Except its not a hat it's a DayQuil cap.
Officially hit an ultimate low today. I was so hung-over I threw up on the ground in front of the jousting display in the London tower. But on a positive note, Brits are very understanding when you vomit on their history.
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