The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
I'm looking at pot farms on google earth. Google should be proud I found a real purpose for it to serve.
Seriously... There's something wrong here. I'm drinking vodka to mask the smell of chocolate on my breath before I get home and he finds out. I fucking hate couple dieting...
He got tattooed, peirced, and we're pretty sure he got rufeed by that fat chick. He was like a walking spring break stereotype.
There is a guy, stoned out of his mind, only wearing slippers and a bathrobe in the library.
I blacked out before two in the afternoon yesterday. Now that's a successful birthday.
I'm not drinking anymore...and by that, I mean until St. Patrick's Day.
Faces of meth called, they want their look back.
Also, the greatest of ironies: I got shampoo confiscated by security while Corey managed to get pot through. MERICA!
eating chex mix on the couch when he walks in naked and asks how he looks. are you shitting me.
He handcuffed himself to the keg... D is hooking up with him anyway.
He's all enlightened and liberal. My next beefcake will be much more Neanderthal.
IT WAS JUST SO LITTLE AND AWKWARDLY FLOPPING BACK AND FORTH
They tricked me into going into that room by saying we'd smoke a bowl and then they all proceeded to have an intervention with me about my love life.
Can you pay somone's bail with a credit card or just cash? I feel like you would know this.
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