yeah well you didnt even puke from the alcohol. we cut you off and went to huck finn's and told you that the "irish cream" coffee creamers had baileys in it, so you shot down like eight of them and puked all over the floor. it was great. we cheered you on and everything
I can actually hear my brain cells scream as they die when she speaks.
Just heard her singing at the school concert... I am honored my penis was touched by those pipes
It's one of the many facets of my drunken alter egos. I'm like substance abuse batman.
Joe decreed the livingroom and the hallway up to the burn mark his kingdom. I think this is the point of 'stage an intervention'
I'm adopting to save the world from the moral outrage that would be my offspring
I don't know man, I woke up and shes here acting like she knows me, wearing my clothes, and scrambling eggs in my kitchen. I don't know her.
You were drinking with me last night, I warned you.
I'm using the Malibu pitcher you stole from the bar to make pancakes this morning. It's actually working really well.
You mowed a straight line through three yards because you were, and I fucking quote, "In the zone." I think they know.
1. Everyone on the 1st and 3rd floor heard you. 2. The 3rd floor vibrates when we have sex. 3. The 1st floor can hear the bed squeak.
I'm pretty sure the cop knew you were drunk when you tried to light your cigg with a chapstick.
So how was it?
The cemetery or the sex?
Riddle me this: why did I wake up next to a stuffed sword fish?
Nothing says “I spent too much in Vegas” quite like eating a jar of pickles for dinner and planning on cream of celery soup for breakfast tomorrow.
Oh no. He's definitely text-flirting with me. No straight man over 30 has any other excuse to use so many smiley faces...
Randomize
