they're scary. like turkeys that ate nuclear fucking steroids.
Correct me if I'm wrong here... but did we serenade each others breasts to "winds of change" last night?
No I'm not coming over. That Bob Ross drinking game is too intense.
All the alcohol I spilled on myself must have acted as a disinfectant or something. I haven't showered in three days and I still don't have a staph infection from sleeping on the lawn with you.
I can't wait to go to grad school so I am not your high unemployed friend.
You blackout rapped the entire DMX song Party Up last night at karaoke without looking at the screen. Then you Tebowed on stage, hugged a black guy, puked in a garbage can, then left. You deserve a medal.
ATTN: We are officially 15 weeks from our annual "Get-Mega-Stoned-and-BBQ" event. Start saving up the proper supplies. That is all.
Eating my shrimp pasta on the porch with a 40, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, proclaiming "I GOT SCRIMPS." I just jumped the shark of college.
My mom got me high and then dropped me off at a church.
I've abandoned trying to find a logical explanation of your life.
Just high enough for therapy.
At IHOP. It feels weird and sad that your cleavage isn't here for me to try to toss paper wads into.
Omg that was my second thought of the morning.
First was that we had pop tarts.
They're either celebrating their tax money or trying to kill each other.
WHEN THE HELL DOES ANYTHING IN OUR LIVES *EVER* GO AS PLANNED???
Oh god theyre drunkenly throwing knifes now, definitely the best movie I've worked on
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