Stop. You don't mean that. Tequila might mean that. But you don't mean that.
Found my smoke alarm in a ziploc in my toilet...again
Highlight of the night: paying my cell phone bill at the bar... I need to get laid.
Wonderful brian is stoned out of his mind, floating in a lawn chair in the hot tub eating a giant plate of macaroni and staring at the moon
Its the least I can do really, I mean, I did sleep with her husband...
I actually want to work out for some reason... I think it's my brains way of telling me it doesn't like living in a fat body.
She apologized again the next day. I said it was pee under the bridge
I'm gonna go ahead and say I love our drinking habits but anytime we roundhouse a 750 of Schnapps on the way to a non competitive bowling league we might have problems
I swear to God, if you have sex in my bed one more time you're gonna start paying rent
Living alone for four weeks has given me unrealistic expectations of pantslessness.
I should probably eat a Plan B. Pill for breakfast. Happy Halloween.
well i can officially check "have sex in a prius" off my bucket list...
Im riding the bus with beer in one hand and chapagne in the other. I love weddings.
My dad is clearly baked off his ass. He almost sat on moms cat in front of her, zoned out while staring at it and said he wondered what it was thinking about. Now he's dragging everything from the livingroom into the garage. Moms not happy.
I mean, I'm not hammered, but I definitely can't show my face or tits in that bowling alley again
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