clay aiken is like melissa ehteridge without the guitar.
dude facebook disabled my account because im registered under a false identity. now in order to get it back, i have to prove that it's really my name. i sent them an email and had to sign it "Cordially, Lloyd Pancakes"
the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
Whatever is fine with me, as long as I am dressed in green and end up shitfaced.
I miss waking up, opening the closet downstairs, and finding you inside passed out.
PS- I just stirred my mimosa with a slice of bacon
It's kind of hard to say bye to you when you fall asleep on the bar..
In a cab. Towels everywhere. Confused.
If you're wondering where your left shoe is you lost it in a bet with a homeless guy last night
Why we can't turn this into a healthy friendship where I cheat on my boyfriend with you and you feel better knowing everything wrong with my life is beyond me.
All I know is when I checked my phone this morning google translate was open with "help the cow ate my robot" translated to French
You kept saying "this bitch", mumbled incoherently for like 5 minutes, took a shot, and kept going.
You just sat there staring at your apple and saying "I'm so glad you're here" to it every time you took a bite.
You had all day to plan ahead & get mixers, so whose fault is this sobriety?
I tried saying sorry but instead I puked down her shirt and tried to clean it up... Now I have a bruise on my forehead. good news, before she left she wrote her number on my stomach with sharpie
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