Just boiled hotdogs in bongwater. NOT a good idea.
Just sold all of my pants in order to buy tonight's whiskey. Goodbye, high functioning alcoholism. Hello, Dad.
On my way home from Vegas. Just realized my pants are inside out
Oh my god my life; so much cake and so little sex
We talked about all of the sex positions that would better allow him to feed me grapes. I think I'm in love.
i dont care if it was her birthday. if she leaves me with a half rack of budweiser and her boyfriend obviously shits gonna go down.
How creepy of a mustache can you grow by wednesday night?
He came out in cowboy boots and underpants holding a beer while he hugged my mom. I love Montana.
Fuck him for salsa, please. I heard its a good recipe.
The walk home from the bar is FAR more shameful in daylight.
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
That guy is like a clown car of sexy. Just when I think I've seen it all, THERE'S MORE.
AND SOME IN THE TRUNK.
I knew things were bad when my gyno recommended meditation.
I pulled you and a keg around in a wagon for like five hours and apparently everyone else remembers it but us.
He does impressions. Handy knowing you can get fucked by one guy and pretend a group of celebrities is running a train on you.
Randomize
