I wish i could make my toaster dance like they do in the second ghostbusters. But i dont have ectoplasmic goo. Or a toaster.
I just saw a Puerto Rican child between the ages of 8 and 11 with a faint mustache talking very loudly on the bluetooth in his ear about how "Skittles are played the fuck out"
we started pounding beers an hour ago to celebrate our personal snow day tomorrow. vodka shots for u of i's actual decision are on standby.
Every time I get scared about the fact that I'm falling for him I remember that he juggles and is hung like a mastadon and everything is a-ok.
I may or may not have just sent the bartender a pic of me in my slutty cheerleader costume with the caption "rah rah ree, gimme yo d"
And the horses in Central Park have blankets. And Rafiki just told me "it is time" in the back of our cab.
am i gonna have visuals on this?
you are gonna see the trees puking up fireworks and ninja pheonixes will shit rainbows and fire
There are twenty thousand men on this campus, please have sex with someone who isn't my drug dealer
You leaned over so she could squirt ketchup in your hair and then started chanting "KETCHUP NIGHT!! KETCHUP NIGHT!!!"
I don't fucking know. I'm out stimulating the economy. Not locked in a room with a marker board.
Oh at the liquor store again?
I'm sorry about all of the innappropriate shoe throwing
It's become almost a Pavlovian response. The sound of the vacuum being run by hubby causes an instantaneous involuntary orgasm.
He bought me pizza and bourbon and played scrabble with me. So naturally I slept with him.
we found her. shes in the bathtub full of raw pasta. i dont even know...
Apparently when you start crushing adderall and blending them into your margaritas calling them blenderalls you have "a problem" WTF
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