Hotel room at 3 am. She's 42. Stockings and heels. All because I opened with a joke about cougar hunting. We'll high-five later.
I seem to have left my pride at pride
I am swimming in semen. He must have been holding it in for a special occasion.
Their wedding is on my 21st birthday. I fail to see a way that this could end poorly.
Dude she was 62...with a boob job. And I'm proud to say I made out with that.
He told her, Don't talk. Just sit there so I can imagine that you have the kind of personality I wish you had.
Could be my worst decision since the whole 'third degree burn' fiasco.
I just want to have weird supply closet sex with him... and then I'll be all set. Fired, but all set.
Dedicating my hangover to whoever the hell I hooked up with in the bathroom last night.
just kidding, dedicating it to the gods of mexican food. omnomnom
Dude. I'm busy doing PR for America. FOR AMERICA. Europeans think we can't handle liquor.
I have never fucking hated the horrible sound of dozens of off-key recorders BLARING their fucked rendition of "Fais Do-Do" in unison against the screams of an adult male... more than I do now. This is why people avoid teaching. Kill me. End it all.
I'm suffering a hangover from deep within. I feel like the half of the parts of my body are permanently laced with alcoholic substances
I stole us four large rolls of toilet paper from the hotel carts. I feel like the breadwinner in this relationship
So I said "fuck it" and made myself a sandwich
If that pentatonix bullshit is playing when I get home we're breaking up
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