We should takd a huggy cab to snuggle bunnyville
The party tonight has no theme but I decided to go as a home wrecker.
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
For my job application I just put "community gardener- personal business" for my previous work experience in place of the neighborhood pot grower/distributor
5am is far to early to be on jagerbomb number 6 right now
I just tipped the cab driver with pistachio nuts. And he loved it.
I am on a roof. I'm not sure which one, or why, or how, but I am on a roof and you should come get me. I can see info classrooms!
If man night ends at some point, hit me up and let me prove my vagina still exists.
You told us that you don't have to wait in line at Taco Bell. Then, drove up to the window and grabbed someone else's food.
I'm just gonna use that pot butter as dip for chips. That's fat, American AND stoner!
I literally walked into the toilet, looked at my reflection, said "alcohol" and went back to bed...
Lesson learned. No more vodka and toaster strudel
Your uterus is safe from my father's misconstrued prophecies.
You have not lived until you've slid down a waterfall fucked out of your mind. Fact.
My lack of taco bell is hindering me from seeing the good part of that situation
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