so I'm never txting u again after today...
y?
cuz i don't wanna see it on blogspot :)
ha...too late
my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
so i was pissing and the phone rang but i forgot i was pissing so i just ran to answer the phone. it was too late when i realized
I just realized that all of my cardio comes from dancing on tables.
If I say "It's good enough" and I'm not talking about a sandwhich, that's your queue to stop me, you're supposed to be my friend.
Things I love twice as much when drunk: Taco Bell. Office chairs that roll. Classes.
Use motel 8. I'll give you my credit card #. i'll pay for it cuz i care about your vagina.
Her bed is on wheels, so we woke up in the kitchen.
Soooo how am i supposed to explain to my mom that i was admitted to the hospital but you kidnapped me within 20 minutes?
She just flushed the toilet with her head inside it...
then looked at this little girl next to me and was like "don't drink when you get older and don't let your best friend be with assholes." she looked at me like i was crazy
Had to snap chat three different people to ask who left the bite mark on my thigh. All three said "Wasn't me". Now I can't wear a bathing suit to my mom's pool.
Google imaged your anal issues. Seems fuckable still.
2016 shall be rememered as the year I sharted while putting up the Christmas tree.
HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED HAM AND WEED
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