sitting in my room eating a boneless rib tv dinner, and listening to taylor swift's love story, and i sharted. had to finish the ribs and hear the end of the song before i went to the bathroom to wipe.
we've progressed from teabagging to lighting eachothers asses on fire. this cannot be a good path.
that's what penises do
they tell lies.
Please just tell me how ugly she was so I can bask in the diminishingly small reassurance that might give me
DO NOT EAT ONE OF DONOVANS WEED RICE CRISPIES. I REPEAT DO NOT EAT IF YOU VALUE YOUR EYE BALLS
On campus. Grown men in women's sexy bee costumes. Complete with legwarmers. This cannot be real life.
It took years to rebuild my brains forcefield against your charm and I feel like u seal team 6'd ur way in again and caught my common sense sleeping on post
and that my friend is why you dont go in for an eye exam and drop 250 dollars on a pair of glasses after smoking a blunt
Pretty sure I asked the person at the pharmacy counter in Walgreens to marry me last night. But also remember Rachel Maddow crawling through the TV screen, so my memory might be a bit compromised...
i don't know why he's complaining, i'm the one with four hickeys on my ass.
Like I would feel weird too if you just cancelled our wedding, cut off all your hair and started twerking everywhere
but, alas, I am not the lady in the streets. I'm simply the freak in the sheets.
I have to stay away from bourbon. Despite what it keeps telling me, it is NOT my friend.
i love discovering the tokens of our drunkenness from the night before. it's like easter egg hunting. today: smashed pizza rolls in the sink.
I remember is someone saying "I smell weed" and then having a room full of sober high school kids look at me.
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