Starbucks introducing alcohol. i hear angels singing.
We are like the golden girls with less cheesecake and more drugs.
smoking weed is really the only logical conclusion to hangovers
My main thought on the Olympics: I need LESS cowbell.
Your dignity remains intact. He, on the other hand, is completely convinced he slept with your cat.
he just voluntarily told me he was uncircumsized.. and that his favorite color was blue.
I was just expressing concern for your pickle consumption.
Last night he asked the cab driver "if you were in the middle of getting tattooed and the tattoo artist suddenly got a boner would you leave or would you get that boner??"
The number of tpain songs that actually relate to my life right now is embarrassing.
Also, the greatest of ironies: I got shampoo confiscated by security while Corey managed to get pot through. MERICA!
That guy was cool until he tried fighting that dude in the bow tie. I need better wingmen.
We're at the liquor store. Then going to the hospital
tonight at the bar some people told me that I have a sprit following me around.. that's the kind of shit that you laugh off till you're home alone.
He will be so fat that the winter can not penetrate his blubber.
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
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