I'm not to broken up about it. Our relationship was worse than a coldplay song.
I knew we should have skipped class earlier, my lab partner is drunk from last night and making up his own experiments.
Sorry I had passed out by this time I think, with the chicken fingers ON my face in my bed, with all the lights on, and ketchup all over.
We made out for three hours. Then she said she didn't sleep with redheads and left the party. So yes, I'm still drinking.
I think I just got a contact from my own exhale. Def dying.
Um...any recollection of peeing in the pantry
So I'm drunk playing pool in a bar with a guy I arrested last week for a DUI...if he recognizes me, shit's gonna get real.
We don't really communicate like that.
Communicate like what?
Communicate like people who want to see each other when their genitals are inside their pants.
Fuck yeah GAYNESS
*explodes into glitter*
I feel like I should go door-to-door apologizing to America.
Do you think the firemen will remember me?
Yes. But you were sloppy, sobbing, and puked on two of them. You won't get in their pants.
The last thing I remember is singing hotel California with a hobo and asking every bald man I saw if I could touch his head.
He said he looked out his window and I was sitting in the grass with blood everywhere talking to a dog.
You know it's a pretty bad night when an injured penis is not the worst thing that happened to you. Fuck tequila
You put a bag of sliced onions in the microwave then screamed, "voila, onion rings!"
Randomize
