its like playing clue every morning after we party. she did him in the kitchen with..oh god.
Her problem is just that he inner beauty is just as ugly as her physical beauty
the Monday before Thanksgiving is not a Monday at all. Just Thursday in Monday suit.
Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
There's a difference between southern and inbred. She just doesn't know that yet.
is election day enough of a holiday to justify getting fucked up on a tuesday?
Just once I'd like to throw a party where I don't have to clean up someone else's blood the next morning.
We never did figure out who the stuff on the wall came from, did we?
When did our fuck buddy relationship, turn into me babysitting his dog?
If you happen to tell anybody my drunk story in the near future, please refrain from telling them about me shitting myself. People are getting the wrong idea and random people are messaging me on Facebook making fun of me for that
Things were easy when he was just a penis. Now he's a penis with feelings.
She was purple for Halloween. She literally spray-painted herself purple and called it a costume. It won't come off.
You handed J your Mayan-pocalypse shopping list and told him he wasn't getting laid unless he brought everything on it. Where is he supposed to get a live goat?!
Bless her heart. Her stupid, drunk, adderall-ed heart.
Im quite confident that my struggle with sobriety ended last night sometime after dinner
Someone needs to get Mark off the roof. I told you that he doesn’t shut up about ancient Egypt if you give him henny.
Randomize
