so Brent and I ordered you a drink then realized you don't live here. I drank it.
when my dick couldnt get hard she said "fly on little wing"
we couldn't afford a big pool so we bought 2 kiddie pools and put the inflatable beer pong table inbetween. get over here. now.
Responsibility does not care about your dick.
He tried to say "god bless your heart" to the stripper but it came out "god bless your pussy"
Somehow she slept thru the vacuuming, people walking in and out, and the sound of constant beer bottles hitting the trash, but when someone said weed in a regular volume of voice she startled awake.
We are not buying weed off a guy from the internet.
Oh no, we smoked the revival weed. It came in a Batman bag. It hit like justice. And orphans.
If I do nothing else today, the fact that I talked you into this is achievement in itself.
You were typing for me while I was hyperventilating into a paper bag on the floor.
I ran into a wall that clearly had things popping out. My eyebrow was bruised, both arms, the bottom of my foot. Lost half of my finger nail, my fake eyelash was stuck in my hair and I have about 47 blurry pictures of a half naked zombie DJ.
worse hangover than the time you almost threw up in a plant in front of your daycare kids?
...I don't remember telling you about that but yes
I wonder how horrible I look to customers. There's cuts all over my face and I can't talk.
What are the cuts from? Head-butting the bathroom light fixture?
Honestly that's best case scenario.
What the fuck was I thinking eating an entire tub of potato salad on acid. My stomach today bro
He’s exactly what I’m looking for: he’s got a broken heart, a working penis and a new boat!!!
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