I woke up in what appears to be a taco bell graveyard in my bed.
I just had a heart to heart with a stripper I'm becoming a dentist.
I wasn't hungover this morning. My head just hurt because someone tried to suction cup a dildo to my forehead.
He referred to his cock as "The cock" like it was third party or something.
Oh, and she's that dumb bitch that goes out in public in full make up and sweats with uggs. I hope she falls face first in a bowl of queso and drowns
the old man that you threw the shoe at says "hi" and many rude words...
I think I'm allergic to vodka. Or people getting engaged. One or the other. I want to die.
Is it bad that I feel proud to be the first one to puke in the apartment? And I did it in style?
You straight up painted the counter with steak, tequila and beer. You owe me a knew toothbrush.
She looks like a Midwestern news anchor that got fired so she has done nothing but eat for the past 6 months.
And the prospective student I was showing around had to take care of me.
Just check with her if girls can get blown, that's all.
This has to be the weirdest conversation I've ever had sober and in the middle of the day before.
This really high kid past out in the corner of the room holding a box of cheez its in his arm. My idol.
She kissed me, then said "mmm your face tastes like it needs my pussy on it."
Also epiphany: I gotta quit fucking with dudes that have never seen Harry Potter. They all turn out to be shitheads who probably eat honeydew.
Randomize
