I think about you every night.
I'm sorry.
Ryan Ross and Jon Walker left panic at the disco today.
I predict a mass suicide of the 14 year old girl population...
The office pool is up to $500 if you take a shit in Frank's desk drawer. Time to change the unpaid internship into a cash cow.
I mean it's my life so what if i want to drink Molson from my sparkly shoes and not regret anything
So if you ever need to know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy that can put a 24oz beer can up his ass... Hit me up...
We don't really communicate like that.
Communicate like what?
Communicate like people who want to see each other when their genitals are inside their pants.
I spent 10 minutes contemplating condensation on grapes this morning.
I picked up a chick last night on crutches wearing a I am boobman tshirt. I love raves.
I've got enough liquor to do one of two things on Friday: 1.) Drink myself into a coma or 2.) lay in bed a drunk and cry lonely mess. Happy Valentines Day.
I'm daydrinking whiskey in a princess hat
I'm not sure how to explain it, but I feel like our penises have a connection. Like long lost brothers. We're not even gay.
I think you just described to us the most perfect drunken fairy tale that has somehow never been written
I was all, oh. I've had tattoos and broken a limb. Waxing my lady parts will be a cake walk. I was wrong.
He plays guitar, sings like an angel, and acts like a gentleman. If I don't fuck him by the end of first semester, I'm dropping out
We should write a country song: “Blacked Out on a Sunday”
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