so Brent and I ordered you a drink then realized you don't live here. I drank it.
two more shots til everyone in this club gets to see my cesarean scars.
Two girls are doing the worm relatively well on the bar floor after the fact I just saw one puke in the trash
I'm going to listen to christmas music to trick my body into cooling off.
How is it I was the last to know everyone calls me tig ole bitties? Did y'all have a meeting about this that I wasn't invited to?
I think as far as last words to bitter ex girlfriends go, "enjoy that staph infection youre about to get in your uterus" is right up there with the best
I'm sick of being the only unemployed member of the group. Doing things alone isn't partying. Its sad.
Now back to adults eating hotdogs.
Like "oh its Monday, gotta get wasted today!" not "oh its Monday.. Gotta go to class"
If I get aids I am starting a lawsuit against snapchat.
DAMMIT Im supposed to be running a company not discussing dick piercings!
I feel like a pet sloth would complement my lifestyle.
In the words of my step grandma "whatever makes your pussy happy"
The dicks good but it's not two trains and a bus good.
bonging vodka is the same level of "good idea" as eating machetes
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