Yours is on the dinner table...mine is in my underwear drawer.
Short Circuit remake moving forward, David Carradine dead by his own hand. Come home soon, society deteriorating rapidly. Nation's capitol likely not safe.
After I talked about my ex for about twenty minutes, she just listened, sluts are so understanding
I feel like ignoring a facebook event is a lot like a pocket-veto. The only difference is instead of opposing legislation, I don't want to go to your sketchy party.
She kept saying "I didn't do it" but she was so drunk she forgot her pee was orange from her UTI medicine.
I know it may not be fiscally responsible to pregame fifty cent night, but I'm gonna go ahead and do it anyway.
So basically i got outta bed and started peeing on the a/c unit..when my roommate tried to stop me i looked at him and said "i got this"
I don't remember anything past "we have 15 minutes to drink this keg."
I have your car and your sandals. My shoes are somewhere under the puke couch. Safari time.
I guess I made wings because there's chicken everywhere. Even on the walls. 3 of them. It's like a chicken grave yard.
Then she cat effected the picture of my dick I sent her the other night. I'm in love.
Nah, this is the University of Tennessee. She'll get the clap, and get busted for having pot in her dorm by spring break. This time next year she'll be part-timing at a community college as a nursing major. So predictable it hurts.
If I could run through a field of Reece's and Oreos, dive off a milkfall into a bowl of cereal. My Life would complete.
I mean, "boo" isn't the appropriate response to someone dying...
just put a ruler in a cup trying to measure how much ivve had to drink..... God help me
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