we're blogging at a bar
I wish my cat could text because i would tell him that everything will be ok. and i wish he could send them back..but him have no thumbs. him no know what he would text with.
I consider it a successful poop when you only have to wipe once.
you mean i was at the winter classic?
i'm sitting in the pool eating chicken pot pie with my little brother's friend. moments like these are the reason i love weed.
i woke up this morning next to my toilet covered in an attempt to make blanket of toilet paper
Someone just asked if you were the one who rode around the bar on some girls back
I stopped in the middle of puking to wish you a happy birthday, so by default it means a lot.
She called me in the morning crying, but I was busy cleaning up bird guts, very hungover. It was a very surreal morning.
Carrying your RA back to her room wasn't the conclusion I was expecting for the first thursday back
If drawing me a picture of his dick in draw something is flirting then he is doing it wrong.
She really is something else.
Words cannot describe what though. The best way to describe her is to say it like watching a bear and a whale have sex. You don't know why it's happening or how. But it's rather funny and you can't look away.
I have tan lines from my nipple rings.
You know how last week before we left I was drinking outta that blue cup and I left it sitting across the road. Well, it hadn't moved and my family just found it, brought it inside and cleaned it. I think this cup is my soulmate.
I fished a Couples Masturbation DVD out of somebody’s trash and kept it. That’s how desperate I am.
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