Molly wanted me to tell you, "she hasnt shit on the floor in a while" like she thinks its an accomplishment.
The stories of what you did in Cuba got home before you.
I have to keep checking she's breathing. This is why we don't drink on Sundays
I could've eaten a live cat and wouldn't remember it today. That level of drunk.
Well besides you comparing him to your dead cat, I'd say it was fine.
Those were the days I had no morals... Dark times.
Shall we take a trip back?
She gave me what I will now dub a "hurricane sandy". Loud, wet and sloppy BJ that made me want to stay home and complain about shit on the Internet
Ok. You have started something that can only end with a picture of the inside of my butthole. It may happen today or next year, but it's on my agenda.
Is using La Croix as a mixer for vodka a legit way to reach my daily water consumption?
Who am I kidding? With my track record, I'm going to end up sleeping at the strip club with just nipple tassels on.
Doing the walk of shame from the back of a Jeep to the porta potty it's parked next to while your dad watches is not what you want.
I have a vagina. So i automatically win.
conclusion: canadians have really freaky sex
So i woke up on a park bench... Using my shoe as a pillow, cuddling a empty handle of vodka... Yet I'm still in my living room. Someone please tell me why all my vodkas gone? I'll deal with the park bench situation at a later time.
How's work going?
Boring. I have a cat on a leash right now
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