Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
I may have been to starbucks and 2 classes with balls still written on my face...
Listening to her yell about my drinking problem is not helping my hangover.
Now that my 6 day bender is behind me, I just realized I might have been the one who took a shit in our mailbox that past few days.
I mean I'm not worried about us not getting wasted. I'm more worried that I'll be doing a Boris yeltzen impression by 1030.
Sometimes I send them texts like "I want to make you cry and lick up your tears" just to fuck with them. And THAT is how you get rid of a Stage 5 clinger.
You rang?
Saw a ginger and the first thing I thought of doing was yelling "you have no soul!" so I called you so we can yell it together with you on speakerphone.
I feel like this is the moment of high where you have to write these texts down to remember to text them and feel that somehow this is important to the continuity of the world.
Me and him were fist fighting in the back of the cab and I offered the driver a 100% tip to call him an asshole. I don't know why.
Well, I watched a girl proposition a shit ton of people, try to take a cocktail waitresses job and then proceed to walk into a wall. Damn, I'm a little jealous.
She curled up in the corner, screamed "THE BLANKET IS SO WARM" and promptly passed out with her face in the dogbed. No one bothered to reposition her.
Good thing my vagina doesn't have a chronometer on it. I'm sure my fiance would be horrified. Probably 10 miles from this past weekend alone.
Just threw up in the shower. Hangovers at 23 are the best.
He literally just made me hold his dick while he peed cause he wanted to know if I could aim as good as him
Then, even the devil himself would be scared of us. And we'd be bestfriends with Jesus. He would love us.
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