we're at Rob's house and just invented the best drinking game ever....we are on Chatroulette and everytime we see a dick we all have to drink.
his name is not nearly as fun as i thought to yell out in bed
Mom just apologized for her lack of a gag reflex not being genetic.
Ordered weed last night from the delivery service, and who showed up...my old real estate broker. He said, "this is less stressful." Duh.
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He's eating a cream cheese sandwich. He's obviously distressed.
I ended up on the roof were calling it a tie
My mom would probably be ok with my lifestyle as long as she doesn't see that photo of me doing bong rips in a Jesus costume.
Just remember my house smells of thick cut bacon and I have a big dick.
So I stappled myself into my toga... that should be interesting getting out of later tonight...
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If I get to the point of singing Man of Constant Sorrow then please god let me do it, record it, then cut me off.
I have bad memories with every alcohol but we manage to work through the problems for the good of the relationship
It's the eve of Christ's birthday and I'm sending pictures of my tits
conclusion from last night: i should wear boob glitter more often
I knew you were on something when you said you were a puppy and you ate all the frosty Paws dog ice cream which says not for human consumption right on the side of it.
A drunk frat boy just jumped on the hood of my car while I was driving down Bridge St. He yelled at me to keep going since he was playing frogger and needed another car to jump on... or a log. I hate this town.
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