I'm at subway, this 8 year old kid is judging my fashion sense with his dad. I want to kill myself.
It's ok, he's just 8, he's not judging you.
He just asked why I'm sitting alone. I honestly want to cry.
So I went home with some chick last night... I'm not sue what's worse: not getting a nut at 5am, the condom breaking and not being replaced, feeling poo when I put my finger in her but, sleeping on a heroin mattress in her living room, her swine flu coughing fit at 7am or realizing she peed the matt at 10am. Actually it was probably the fact that she continuously told me she was the classiest girl in boulder.
the guy at the pet shop just had an eye seizure while looking at my chest
Do you understand how much easier life would be if fannypacks were normal
I know I hit you with my car but people express love in different ways. Everyone is different.
and on the fourth day, god made foam parties.
We had sex in the tent after his 6th beer and while we were at it we had conversations with the people outside the tent.
I threw up on my way to work while listening to "the good times are killing me". this award goes to modest mouse for creating the most poetic puke ever
You went down on Rachel in front me last night. Worst. Brother. Ever.
Looks like I've become the Walter White of my PhD cohort.
My friends son got stung by a jellyfish over the weekend and we seriously stood there debating on whether or not we should pee on this toddler.
Here's to not getting arrested this year on thanksgiving again. Cheers bitches!
Your pictures have evolved a lot over the years but I think your angry dick pic phase was one of my favorites
I'm getting drunk off Malibu and watching Drag Race and it's only 2 in the afternoon. I'm the poster child for sad gay men.
It doesn't matter how nice the shirt you wore to the bar was, you still shouldn't have worn it to a job interview
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