I don't believe in a God but I'm almost positive I just shit out the devil.
Bank of America texted me 7 times in 12 hours to say my balance was below $50. I kept transfering money back in. Then I texted my bank saying that it was okay, i knew what I was doing.
I just had a flashback to last nights party, I'm pretty sure I told most of the people there that I post a masturbation schedule for an iCal download.
You fed me milk from the beer bong because you thought it would "Sober you up" .
I noticed how good my hair still looked. Apparently rum and coke in it helps it stay curly thru sex. May be using this more often.
For the love of God you used a 40 foot extension cord to bungee jump out the off the 2 nd floor
its not that he announces that he can deep throat a banana its the fact he knows he can and it makes me wonder how he found out
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
All I remember was endless tequila and pulling karate moves from 3 Ninjas Kick Back towards the guy at 7 Eleven. Explanation?
It's like the bermuda triangle of cat puke
My tweets this weekend consisted of me telling every bar I went to that they were my favorite valentine. I've never felt like more of an alcoholic
I'm eating hummus off of my stomach right now.
My sweat smells like Wild Turkey. I'm really feeling the holiday spirit.
I recall trading my iPhone watch for a carton of Marlboros.
I mean seriously with your cock and my tits combined we could rule the world. Pinky and the brain style
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