Holy jesus god. My teeth taste like street.
I knew it was time to leave Waffle House when you started singing "What's Your Fantasy" to your hash browns.
He tried peeing out of the sunroof.
I can't tell which way is up. Too many corners around his house too. An arbitary assimilation of edges.
Christ, I swear you are the high man's Dr. Seuss.
I'm about one sudden movement away from being able to cross "throw up in a fortune 100 company's bathroom" off my bucket list.
New carpet is nice. I'm making carpet angels. Like a fresh snowfall.
Could you imagine living in a city where bartenders are available by 1:30 AM
I'd have like 4 kids by now and at least one std
High-fiving last weekend's hook up in passing on the way to class has given me quite the lady boner.
IF THE GUY WHO I AM BORROWING OUR CAR FROM FINDS ONE CONDOM OR JIZZ STAIN IN THIS CAR HE IS GOING TO CASTRATE MY ASS. SERIOUSLY, DON'T FUCK IN THE CAR.
I'm still laying in bed cuz I don't feel like adulting yet
For the record you're an amazing lay and you have great taste in breakfast sandwiches
I think one make out session at a bar per year is probably the best choice.
Last thing I remember I was riding on a picnic table being hauled around by a lawn mower with an empty case of bud light on my head...
FINE I guess I'll just drink regular coke like a PLEBIAN.
I didn’t spend $100 for a wax to sit here and listen to you FT your brother to complain about how bad the Jets are.
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