I can't tell whether I'm throwing up blood or licorice.
Dude its 315 and I'm sitting here eating slices of cheese. Don't talk to me about tomorrow.
Yeah he's definitely gonna feel that one when he wakes up. I beat the shit out of him with that broom handle.
Well, on the plus side, the hospital gave me a shirt that says "Makes a bad ass look good"
She spilled creme de menthe on her crotch and I told her she looked like a menstruating Vulcan (costume idea!). Obviously, I went home alone.
I'm sorry I didn't respond. I had a shit day. However, I just masturbated to Adele's Rolling In the Deep while crying. It was oddly therapeutic.
Long story short I'm making an I'm sorry card for a girl I dont remember having sex with
You're going to be mad because I got baked, but not that mad because I'm bringing home kfc.
Like I'm not tryna become president or marry a doctor or some shit here, like one level above garbage is all I'm asking for
The part where he comes over and ignores you isn't what makes me mad about that story... It's the fact that he ate your tacos, AND THEN proceeded to ignore you. That's cold hearted.
It's not my fault, Tequila turned all my alarms off.
I just set my mike's hard down and didn't want it to spill, so I held my finger up and told it to shoosh. I'm drunk.
"Why is there a bottle of Tequila taped to the fan?"
I need to leave my mind and my stupid vagina are having fight over who's right
Apologies that our conversations always turn to butt sex or penis size. I thought we out grew that in our 20's.
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