here I sit at Southern Illinois' finest pubs and I thought I heard your laugh. I was sadly astonished to turn and find a midget cracking herself up reading the label on her can of chewing tobacco...
Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
I wasn't fucked. I was just drunk, because i was still able to walk into the woods and masterbate.
she stopped traffic so I could crutch across the street. Clubbing while crippled and drunk is different.
Someone left their drag queen on my couch. On the plus side, he sure does know how to make a mean cup of coffee.
I'm to the point that I've had the revelation that its physically impossible for my arms to be attached to my torso.
Last night I passed a kidney stone as I came inside her. Worst. Experience. Ever.
I did the walk of shame in nothing but a sleeping bag and now I'm on my way to pick up plan B. Let's not make a habit of this.
Sounds like a good New Years
I woke up and found piles of popcorn in a trail around my house, ending at a laundry basket full of pillows. What were we trying to catch last night?
My previously white toilet seat is now hot pink. I'm not sure why or how but I know it's your fault.
Also the girl beside me smells like she's been in a deep fryer.
I don't care what the Chinese zodiac calendar says . . . 2015 is the year of the cock!
I don't think I'm ever gonna need a boyfriend again. I have a body pillow, a vibrator, and I'm strong enough to open my own jars.
He was awesome with her today. I can't say that it didn't make my Fallopian tubes sing "The Hills Are Alive."
I got a message the other day that just said “great tits”
A gentleman AND a scholar
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