There's something fitting about a hot in-car interracial makeout to the tune of 'healing the world.' RIP Mike.
I swear ... this hickey is a map to Amelia Earhart's whereabouts
I don't know what you're doing, but there's a dragon on my street.
Chick stood right next to me in the elevator. Like she had the whole elevator and she stood right next to me. So I farted.
The really sad thing is that I actually practiced crawling in my room yesterday in preparation for today
I just had a 30 minute conversation about hummingbirds. That high.
I miss high conversations.
Swinging. Is. Amazing.
Apparently I was so drunk I threw my entire wallet at the stripper on stage. That was the third time I should've gotten kicked out.
Sundays should be dedicated to Girl Scout cookies, sex, and super hero movies.
#1- I went to button my shirt only to find they were all mising. #2- I'm so fu@king sore I feel like I was sweating to the oldies all night. #3- this pounding headache I have, I blame solely on Jennifer. Everyone sounds like Billy Mays when they talk. I remember nothing from last night, I'm concerned.
As the bouncer was escorting you out, you yelled "keep your filthy dick beaters off me!"
I have lots of feelings today, but drunk is my favorite.
He gets married Father's Day weekend and I just found out I'm pregnant. What do I do?
Typical Sunday morning text...are you alive?
Sitting in the car eating a bagel. Watching a guy do tai chi in the parking lot. My morning is fabulous
i'm growling thTa how much i wNn slwwwp.
save me some of whatever you're doing i'll be there in five.
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