so i was just informed that i sang that song "pop that pussy ayyy pop that pussy" at the halloween party saturday. iembarrassing.
I just speedwalked down the broken metro escalator while high. Basically all my worst fears combined
just had to sit in the middle of an aisle in stop and shop because we're too hungover and needed to take a break.
Where the hell is he. I called him crying for weed and sex you would think that would signal some urgency.
The fact that you're allowing Santa to dry hump your ass is sort of a dealbreaker
dude you literally had like 30 screwdrivers, i thought you were gonna die
that explains why my vomit smells like it came from florida
Literally just napped at strip club. Don't know how long
Let's stay in this weekend and play drinking games to the Winter Olympics.
As long as we can drink anytime we see a stray dog, mafia looking Russian or double toilet.
I have never fucking hated the horrible sound of dozens of off-key recorders BLARING their fucked rendition of "Fais Do-Do" in unison against the screams of an adult male... more than I do now. This is why people avoid teaching. Kill me. End it all.
Spoiler alert: my plans for Halloween are going to make our dealer's birthday look like a bunch of mormon ladies having a scrapbooking circle
If he refers to me as slump buster one more fucking time.
well apparently i sat in the bathroom staring in the toliet at my vomit. it was blue. how was your night?
You ran full speed into the glass door with your Patron and yelled "FEEL THE RHYTHM, FEEL THE RHYME"
Drinks have officially taken priority over self-respect, and I'm not even all that torn up about it.
I am playing in the snow in my bunny outfit. GET OVER HERE
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