I just puked in the mop bucket at work. I think I need to go home.
The class that normally occupies the room we use for my Monday class had to do posters as if for a Hamlet movie and they pick actors for each character and this person wrote "Robert D. Niro"
he just wrote my ten page research paper for tit pics. i love my boobs.
You brought out the iron board layed it on the ground in the middle of everyone and passed out for the night
I buy you gas. You blow me. Economics.
So last week was the 4th time a girl cried after sex. I'm seriously doing something wrong
She got stuck in the front door. She never told me how or why.
I mean I drunk but not enough to handle a Scientology convention
He practically cut off his thumb and she offered him a tampon to stop the bleeding
You came over, called every girl Comrade Heather, and then declared that you were an Eagle, and we were your young.
So all in all, a good night.
Also, they sell weed-chocolate covered strawberries. For the romantic stoner.
That was one of the best texts I got today
I'm running on jager fumes right now. It's like I put diesel in a prius and said fuck it.
Oh you have the munchies, Dad? That's great and congratulations on the weed but STOP EATING MY APPLE PIE
Im going to the gym...covered in the Brazilians cum
And how is that different than any other weeknight in your world
Gatorade without vodka just doesn't taste the same
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