I may be a little high but I'm pretty sure my alphabet soup has only Os in it
We call that spaghetti Os
alright she left, finally time to fart up the room
Thank God for cruise control and the Starbucks cup I had to puke in.
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
ride him like a prized pony all the way to orgasm town.
I knew I fucked up when I woke up with the meat scissors in my hand.
when I woke up, he was drunk and singing "soft kitty" and petting my face
I can't figure out how to eat twizzlers and I have to be at a wedding reception in an hour.
Please never have kids.
Two big black bouncers picked you up and escorted you to the elevator.
I didn't even do anything wrong. For all they knew I could have been on the US Olympic Gymnastic team. Would they kick Gabby Douglas out of a bar? I don't think so.
HE TALKS ABOUT HIS DICK IN THIRD PERSON ABORT MISSION ABORT FUCKING MISSION
I WAS KIDDING ABOUT SLUTEMBER BUT ITS ACTUALLY HAPPENING
Today was brought to you by the letter B for beer and bourbon and the number fuck you I'm meant to be studying not hungover
For a man with no legs he was surprisingly good at doggy style.
I don't know whether to high-five you or stage an intervention.
For a second I thought that you were becoming a decent person again. I am glad I was wrong.
We live walking distance from the coors factory. no, we do not have a dry week.
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