I wish the iPhone would register texts from 11:59 as "Last Year" instead of "Yesterday."
I'm telling people I'm celibate. It sounds cooler when it's by choice.
We'll both be dead in approximately 72-96 hours, with you bringing your liver out of retirement again, Favre.
Damn it, I know in the morning I'm going to regret eating out of the trash...
After I threw him out he walked down the street peeing in stride. I almost wanted to let him back in.
the back of my hand read, "say no to drugs." my palm read, "say yes to shots." when the fuck did I write that?
YOU GOT KINKY WEIRD ICE CREAM HEAD ON FRIDAY DONT EVEN COMPLAIN.
you did a full monologue with your sober self last night. different voices and everything.
So the night ended when we tried making fireworks out of gunpowder and oregano. You can figure out how that went.
I'm not drinking anymore...and by that, I mean until St. Patrick's Day.
Was the first guy that bit your neck last night wearing a trenchcoat...I have a vague memory.
I can't believe you didn't come out. There was a duckling ON THE BAR!
Just caught myself trying to make grilled cheese with the stove off. I think my dad knows I'm high.
I'm just going to take the mature adult root and ignore him for a bit, and then pretend like I didn't see him jerking off.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
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