Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
i wish i had the videos of us pissing on him last night.
I stole another quarter from the bathroom. I'm slowly getting rich drinking here.
composition of my stomach right now: 60% C8H10N4O2 * H2O (coffee), 20% CaCO3 (pepto bismol/tums), 10% HCl (stomach acid), 5% fried rice, 5% residual adderall. i can do that by percent mass too. fuck you finals.
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I made him breakfast and we cuddled on the couch watching march of the penguins, which is, in case you were unaware, the opposite of fucking on a pool table
you can think of my virginity as your little souveneir from our relationship.
I will call him whatever I please, including flaccid dick on forehead guy but not limited to watermelon cunt head.
He's a little cute, in a dorky, I-know-for-a-fact-his-cock-is-huge kind of way
You motherfucker. I just had an MRI with a penny under my boob.
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body shots are frowned upon at family weddings. i'll keep that in mind next time. maybe.
Seriously I'm dying. All my insides are fighting their way out of me. With light sabers and machetes.
my whole wardrobe smells like substance abuse
I'm thinking my boss switched to all cordless keyboards and mouses so that none of us would hang ourselves in the office.
Nxt time we drink that much, we'll have to hide the crayons. Crayola-ing a mural on the living room wall wasnt the brightest idea, but it sure is classy. Right?
My Boss was giving porn recommendations. I think I'm scarred for life.
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