I don't know which is more embarrassing, the fact that I shat on the floor today or that I told you about it.
a dead guy is trying to sell me oxy clean on my tv
Last night you were talking while puking saying, "ahh the shoes and the purse, I'm gonna have to wash those"
Funny how often beer equates to second degree burns on some portion of my body.
don't think this is any sort of attachment thing but if I'm going to throw up regularly at your house, I'm going to keep a tooth brush there
I feel like the only solution to this is to get naked and lay in the shower for a hour then see what my penis wants to do.
He came out in cowboy boots and underpants holding a beer while he hugged my mom. I love Montana.
what kind of roommate is she really? she wouldn't even hold my hair back.
sick fucks of a feather flock together
Maybe you should start carrying pepper spray. You are like the Justin Bieber of lesbians.
He said I was cute and he handed me a stuffed bear from his car. I don't care that he was 80, I named it Hector.
The upside of a losing football weekend is that there are more sad frat boys willing to let loose their inner gay man.
I just told my mother my "if there are drugs I'm only taking them if I don't have to pay" rule and witnessed her perception of my shatter and crumble behind her eyes.
Cool. I might be making a sickly but incredibly well dressed wine drunk appearance in a couple hours
I mean, it's just pathetic when the standard is tinder and he can't live up to it.
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