I can't believe believe she called me a slut. She doesn't know anything about me or my life.
Shit, that's something a lot of sluts say.
That's the last time we joust in Radio Flyer wagons after margarita night.
I just found my coat check number in my underwear.
All I remember is lecturing my dog about how she's a lucky bitch to have a structured eating and shitting schedule.
That's unfortunate. Distance can be a stoner's greatest enemy.
You make it sound like a battle for Middle Earth.
I complimented him on his choice of carpeting while he was humping me.
Faking my way through an entire party as a British exchange student. Wish me luck.
Also, nothing screams "don't talk to me because I'm unstable" like walking around eating cookie dough out of the package.
Well he walked in last night, yelled at me for not playing any music and started dancing.
They made up a new version of "Smash or Pass" called "I would(n't) let you sit on my face" to yell at the freshman
Just had my butthole waxed. If that changes your plans for Saturday..
PSA- Wearing assless chaps results in embarrassingly painful sunburn
I dunno. The drunker I get, the easier econ gets. I may be onto something here.
All I ever wanted was my bed, Tylenol, and total darkness. Instead I had a pervert with porno posters who blares german rock calling me tootsie pop. How was your saturday night?
So I come home this morning to get ready for a job interview and there is garlic seasoning all over the hardwood and a knife in the wall. What. the. fuck.
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