There was a fist fight in my basement last night at four in the morning, in case you were wondering
I bought a goldfish, named it after my ex-girlfriend, and let it die. It's really the little things in life.
this kid in class is playing minesweeper and just slammed the desk because he lost. thank god were normal.
I had to move some guys boxers out of the dryer. This is the closest I'll be getting to dick this month.
I sat in the bathroom on the counter and gave out advice to all the random people that walked in
our conversations pretty much only consist of the phrase 'fuck you'. and the sex is fantastic. we've got a great thing going here.
I have no idea what to do about this. He has a power over me and I think its called his tongue.
I need to stop drinking and eating and start working out. I look like the lovechild of John Goodman and Jabba the Hutt.
you puked on the porch, i can see your jacket on the floor next to your underwear. i know your home, unchain the door, you're the worst roommate ever.
I walked outside an you were laying down talking to a star about your life. That's when I took the bottle of jack away...
i think you lost all your innocence when you were caught straddling a fence in your thong & cowboy boots by the 40 year old apartment manager
I'm like going proud parent over you doing drugs, this is so wrong.
She used my 100 Ways To Cope With Stress handout to wipe puke off her face
The last person that asked me out got pushed down an escalator
I am 11 times too hungover to give the eulogy
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