Sorry if I ruined your sex last night with my constant text updates about the plot of Bolt.
you called to congratulate me on being the reason you lost never have i ever
eye of the tiger was playing while i pooped... it totally helped.
votings over. no more wacking it to anti christine o'donnell ads
I just sent her mug shot out in a mass text because I hate her and her cocaine eyes are hilarious.
Maybe your new years resolution should be not to fuck in Sears bathroom anymore.
if i got ashes i think they'd burn a hole into my head with the amount of sins i've committed this year alone and it's only february
I'm not sure New Orleans is real. Even the grocery stores sell vodka.
I need to see you idiots before I go back to school. But we shouldn't snort Crown Royal this time.
The whole time you were apparently enduring your pukescapades, I was singing very loudly in the car to Beyonce on my way to get a post-coitus Diet Coke.
The highlight of the night was definitely when you starting telling ppl you could shapeshift and "proved" that by stripping.
death bed.
death patio
stfu you slept on the patio!?!
This woman at the blackjack table is sitting on a pile of newspaper so she can pee at her seat and never miss a hand.
All I remember thinking is, why the fuck are there martians on the ceiling? And they were riding fruit. Like strawberries and shit.
Nothing wrong with a little cat scratch fever. You have toys?
A few, plus a dildo molded from a porn star that I've always been too intimidated of to actually use, but it's the apocalypse, and momma didn't raise no quitter.
Randomize
