I wanted to dispute a few 411 charges on my phone bill. The service rep told me I called them four times asking for Lady Gaga's number.
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
I'm unshowered, and since I've seen this episode of say yes to the dress, I've decided to go to the store and get a frozen pizza at 10:20 am. I'm crushing life.
It must have been an amazing night, I have "my pants are responsible people" written on my pants in permanent marker.
Whoever invented the gimlet should be given a medal and then shot
Just walked into the bar to find a guy in a Boba Fett helmet leaning casually against the wall, texting. This night just got real.
Look. If you're going to be my girlfriend you need to be down with me licking BBQ off your face infront of kids.
We smoked bowls and watched Cops for what seemed like hours. And yet I know I'll go back.
we're the same shoe size and he owns more pairs of heels than i do. this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship
I'm terrified that I'm going to have a baby with a guy who posts snapchat stories while ignoring my texts
He had a small dick anyway. I'm glad I barfed on it.
She was a little thick, but we banged on the beach and fireworks went off as we finished so I think God wanted it
he's the kind of guy you give a fake number to and he still finds out your real number anyway...
I skipped the handshake and went right for a dickshake I had him minutes after I saw him.
The hangover struggle is to real, just passed the drive thru window. Twice.
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