I just made doing the dishes into a drinking game. crafty, or pathetic?
He tipped the stripper with quarters. After that not even the waitress would talk to us. I had to move to another table to get a lapdance
as soon as I stop standing here with one leg up on my bathroom counter admiring my balls, I'm going to go tan. and then you may come over.
I just remember being happy that I got that toilet fixed so I had somewhere close to throw up
I wish the sun would stop judging me for being drunk while it's still shining.
Well his dad was his wingman, so I had to fuck him. I didnt want his dad to think that he was doing a bad job and I was drunk enough to think he was doing a good job.
Score one for dad.
I sent him a picture of my boobs instead of saying good morning. I'm trying to tell him how I feel in a language he'll understand.
I never thought I would have to get vodka suctioned out of my ear
Showed up physical therapy hammered. The therapist just says this isnt part of the program.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
How do you forget making out with a coworker in the dressing room at Sears on more than one occasion?
...object impermanence?
There has been a song made about you fucking his roommate.
It's destiny.
Dude I had sex with her and she STILL thinks I'm gay. I don't know what else to do.
Maybe life is about finding the person you DO want to cuddle with after they rail you like a porn star
we need to open a bar. a bar with... wait for it... A FUCKING BALL PIT.
LOL. Do you guys need a ride home?
No. we're home already. i just thought it was a brilliant fucking idea.
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