somehow in between the body shots the bong hits and trying to convince the 7-11 lady to let me fill up my vodka bottle with cherry slurpee. i misplaced my car.
two pink lines on a pregnancy test is bad, isn't it?
only if you didn't want to fuck up your life.
He left a cum stain in the shape of a heart on my sheets.
He's like the Bob Ross of love stains.
its the kind of pain that only someone with a fucking elephant on their head would understand. I'm never drinking again.
I feel like I just lived out a children's book called "The Day I Went to Law School Stoned"
Do not tell me that that is not the face of a man who has sex with goats.
I want Samuel L. Jackson to stand beside me and narrate my morning shits.
We smoked a bowl in front of the abortion clinic shouting Obama at the protestors.
He picked me up in the very car he devirginized me in, his moms toyota.
If there is a ladylike way to throw up in your favorite toilet, I just did it.
You're the common denominator of my blackouts.
I'm not entirely sure that the guy that just texted me is not on drugs right now. I'm also not entirely sure that he isn't about to be incarcerated.
I think I sold my soul to a dominatrix last night.
I just bout myself an edible arrangement for myself and had it delivered to work. I even wrote myself a note. This is a new low for me.
Its guy fieris flavor town of suffering™
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