I woke up under a table, with a huge Mexican sombrero, a box of 120 doughnuts and a bloody nose. It all screams success.
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
My dad told me my only assignment from now til graduation is to not die. it's a legit concern for him.
i robbed the continental breakfast last night
Nothing says happy baby shower like showing up still kinda drunk from last night with an open tall boy in one hand and fries in the other.
It took him three days to realize his roommate had moved out.
I answered the door to some Jehovah Witnesses hungover and wearing nothing but a white tshirt. I think they made it the church goal to reform me, we've gotten four pamphlets. My mom's going to make me convert if they keep coming.
I think I fixed my testicle. That's why I didnt pay $25 for a doctor to do it
Based on the time of Sean's "I'm on your street" phone call last night, we had sex for an hour and a half. Man, time flies when you're getting boned to an orgasmic death.
Just realized I'm going to have to make you sign a non-disclosure agreement before my wedding.
Do you ever actually plan things? Or is it always drugs then whatever happens? I'm considering being worried about you
As if I wouldn't steal Nintendo brand "Mario is my HOMEBOY!" boxers when he gave me the entire drawer to choose from.
especially when i'm drunk. his dick might as well be made of cotton candy.
I think I might start referring to your vagina as a separate being now
You know, finding my first grey pube at 34 is FAR more distressing than finding that first grey hair at 13.
I DO NOT FUCKING WANT OR NEED THIS INFORMATION!
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