Just woke up. I have a "Detective Jacob Arnold's" business card in my pocket.
I remember seeing LSAT prep books and thinking "Whose room is this? I should be hooking up with them instead."
At least my fat-chick-ratio has not been that bad this semester ...
I'm so disappointed in myself I can actually taste it.
Does it taste like semen?
He told me he was in a Proactive commercial. It didn't seem to work for him but he was buying me shots so I slept with him anyways.
This shit I'm taking feels like I've eaten every burrito in the world and chased that with an aquarium of hot sauce.
How do I explain the handcuffs and tanning goggles on our living room floor? There's rope too. The cats love the rope.
Did I send you a drunk selfie with a pine tree last night?
I just ordered cookies for delivery. My life is falling apart.
I couldn't break up with him while I was wearing a Hakuna Matata shirt.
Were you the one who yelled "FOR GLORYHOLE!" then punched a hole through my door?
Dad is celebrating turning 45 by being drunk in a department store before two o'clock.
As long as it's before midnight it's cool. But it would be understandable to ring in my new year shitting myself just before I go to Iraq.
It was some weird herd predator-evasion instinct. All 15 of us took off running in different directions, and the two cops just stood there, perplexed. They had no idea who to chase.
Only you would make Mario Party a contact sport.
And you owe me a new pair of switch controllers.
Randomize
