The maid of honor just puked.
textsfromlastnight.com keeps rejecting me
that alone proves you never get laid, nor have a life.. or have anything funny to contribute to the world.
I vaguely remember telling people they were not trash cans
Puked in a cab. Passed out on my floor an my mom put a blanket over me. Home by 1045. I won shitshow trophy last night.
My professor complimented me on the well drawn penis on my face then asked if I would like a seat closer to the garbage can.
I still can't believe he turned down that threesome with us in central park. He must be really committed.
I had a moment while I was smoking where I was looking at these palm trees and I knew how dr Seuss came up with his characters.
I'll be on pinterest all night planning crafty things to do with my cats in 10 years.
She said she liked strap-ons.
SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT SHOES, YOU ASSHOLE! YOU'RE THE WORST WINGMAN EVER!
I woke up at 5:47 in the morning to you peeing on my parents bedroom floor. I think we've established that you have a limit .
So I was trying to finish off that sick uv whipped and I chased it with yogurt. Not a good idea
I've counted four places at work I need to get laid in. Come help me accomplish this.
Hey, I'm your guy
I smoked a joint in the bathtub at 8 am then went back to bed
FUCK the WHO, FUCK cancer, I'm gonna eat fucking bacon.
Wait an hour then go and untie him. Bring toilet paper and some spare underwear. Want anything from Starbucks?
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