Please stop sending me picture messages of your shit. Seriously. I don't care if it looks like popcorn chicken.
Highlight of my evening, pile of books falling onto me in front of people
She's not depressed. She's just sober. It's like the same thing.
I somehow fell asleep on my kitchen counter using the microwave as a pillow
I just woke up in a puddle of boob sweat. Definitely time to consider a reduction.
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
Apparently, his doctor was impressed with how well we took care of his leg. We're like the kings of naked triage.
She trust falled out of a window. It was like that scene from A Little Princess but with a lot more blood.
Half of my brain feels like I donated it to science and they basically just poured jack Daniels on it and put out cigarettes into it before returning it to my skull
I just gave a bum a ride back to his bench. Columbus is weird but I like it.
The problem with having sex on the couch is that your blanket ends up in the laundry and you're left cold on the couch the next day.
If I'm going to risk life and limb to wear a Wings jersey to the Garden next week, the least they can do is win.
And the most would be ending up in bed with one of them.
You know that girl that climbed through my window and got in my bed with me and fucked me? It turns out she was real and has a real boyfriend who is real pissed
I just got a voicemail from some strange woman with a Russian accent. Are you ok?
I wish I may, I wish I might, get some daddy dick tonight
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