Remember that dream I told you about where I shit out my own skeleton? I had it again last night.
normal stoners make pot brownies. gay stoners make pot chocolate covered cherries on a cinnamon graham cracker crust which by the way are very effective.
i feel like the prize bull at the rodeo. everybody got a ride, no one lasted more than 8 seconds and i'm pretty sure i kicked one of them in the ball sack
i find it sad that i can no longer sit in the back of class for fear that someone will fart into the heater again.
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So dude, she and I just got done having the most amazing sex, and then she rolled over and said that "lets make some tacos" and proceeded to the kitchen... naked... I'm buying the ring tomorrow
Even the French judge on the olympics would give that a 10
But then he started to talk about his wedding he wants and I quote " and yes parts will be choreographed"
was just hit on by a homeless lesbian. forever alone.
We pulled over so he could pee and the next thing I know he's running down the hill by himself with his pants down
When that rick ross song came on he started ripping up dollar bills and pouring out drinks on the floor. I'm all for ignorance but it was a little excessive for a wedding
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I've been alternating between telling people I was mauled by a bear or hit by a car to explain the massive unexplainable bruise on my leg. Slightly more worried now that the car idea is believable.
Between the uncertainly of my bowels today, and the distance the bar is to my house, remember I am doing this for you and our mutual appreciation of alcoholism.
I want to get "Patrick Kane" wasted tonight
I am one hundred percent down for that
You were taking in your sleep. You were like Jess that's that animal we were talking about and you Hugged her feet
You know, I'm starting to enjoy brazilians. One day I'm going to make a therapist very very happy.
Welcome aboard the S.S. struggle. I'll be your captain for today's voyage and Jeremy is your first mate. Just sit back and relax while we navigate the seas of drunken regret. Your forecast for the day is violently hungover with a chance of "shit, that really did happen!"
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