You're the 8th person from last night to text me this morning and ask if I'm ok.
Talking about the game in the closet with a banana wearing sunglasses.
Woke up to pictures of me cooking wings with a blow torch.
So help me Jesus we're never drinking together again. But weekends don't count. Amen.
My mouth already tastes like senor cuervo took a piss in it and it's barely 1 am
I met her dad while holding 4 empty beer bottles at the opera house. I think I made a hell of an impression.
You said your legs stopped working and then pulled yourself around the floor with your hands.
That explains the wood chips stuck in my nipples.
My car smells like beer, you're here in spirit
You should not be allowed to go away on the weekends I plan on getting drunk on. I need someone to stop me from punching this guy in the face. It's simple room mate etiquette.
I was mid-sentence and you stopped me and said, "Yeah.. for my vaginas sake, I'm gonna need you to stop talking right now."
I just used a VHS tape as a plate for sanwich
I feel bad for her. If you sacrifice and have a chubby husband I feel that you assume he's not going to cheat on you....
How many hotdogs are you going to eat today?
THE LIMIT DOES NOT EXIST.
I'm intrigued by how his mouth tasted the same as his dick.
I've been trying to fall asleep with ice packs covering my vagina for the last hour... Sorry for being vulgar. I'm going to kill myself.
Randomize
