Here's my recipe for happiness. Go get a pen. 1. smoke a bowl 2. put on explosions in the sky 3. take a bath. Do this for about 1 hour or until all your problems go away.
Were driving two hours to st louis so we can pee on the arch. See you in the morning. I might be sober by then.
there are 10 yearolds here who keep calling me on the elbow rule!
Wait are they playing beer pong to?
So, do you know where my left shoe is? I mean, we were at a few places last night, and I called them. No luck for me.
I'm going to leave the fate of whether I go to my midterms up to my dealer hitting me up or not
I can't tell if your life is amazing or needs reevaluation when "did I get hit with a nightstick" is a legitimate question.
Using his name makes it all too personal. I refuse to get attached to this one. This is all about ass. He doesn't get a name.
We're playing fucking games. GAMES. THIS IS BULL SHIT. IM GOING TO THROW UP ON THE BABIES AND LEAVE.
I think they took out their livers years ago and replaced them with like cheese graters or something. Only explanation.
his face was nice enough, but his choice of footwear screamed columbian drug lord
It started as ''I want a romantic life right now'' text. It ended with pool table sex.
Making a me burrito to ward off the cold...and the aloneness of my vagina
My neighbor is burning all of her ex's things in a metal drum outside the window. Guess who's going to make a new friend?
I refuse to believe you if you're trying to tell me humanity as a whole isn't sad, tired, and craving Chinese food.
so i realized that he's only my physical relationship and beer is my emotional relationship...
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