there's paper in my vomit.
i am making flyers for the homeless letting them know about free chipolte day
so im decorating easter eggs with my family and my mom is writing "Jesus is risen" and "God loves you!" on the eggs. i wrote things like "I'm naked!" and "there are drugs in these eggs!" on mine.
literally the only thing you kept saying was "i wish i had a beer keg vending machine that accepted hugs as payment" and everytime you said it you rubbed the urn her grandmother's remains were in
I can't believe you just thanked me for a blowjob on my Facebook wall...
and you wish you could be eating a cookie right now. but all you get to eat is a penis
I've decided to tape numbers to the bottom of my heels corresponding to the number of drinks I can safely consume in them.
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.
It's not that drunk me is smarter; it's that sober me is secretly playing for the other team.
Some girl at the bar was showing us her chipped tooth as a pick up line.
He wasn't eating out, he was performing a hysterectomy without a license....should I be worried about my future family?
I told him I'd clean his cock if he ever sent my GF another text message. It was a horrific time for me to miss the l key on my iPhone.
I've been vomiting all day.
All day? It's 10am.
I wanna hang out. The cats don't talk back.
Go have a frustration cry and get over it
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