I got raped by $2 you call it's. I'm still hammered. And mentoring high school kids. My life is a joke.
it was like my fingers were behind enemy lines
so the plumber came, he found condoms, feathers and glitter in the pipes.
you know it's time to start studying when you've procrastinated to the point where you're reading your roommate's ex-boyfriend's wall posts from 2006.
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His concept of male bonding is doing lines in adjacent stalls.
Alright, my brain isn't sure how to properly function on a Wednesday with no hangover and more than 3 hours of sleep.
I'm stoned at 1030am, watching Maury with my exboyfriend. I need to make better choices with my life.
Then mom squeezed my boob and said, "Dad would go nuts if I had these..."
You showed them your nipple for dollars for the jukebox. You were depressed because only one of your songs played. Oh then you twisted your ankle and blamed it on your mad stripper skills.
No shame in my game.
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In the 2nd smartest move of my day your ringtone for when you call is now the Space Jam theme.
"We drove to the deserted part of the parking lot, and that's where we blew each other. It was so romantic."
learning about efficiency and effectiveness in an administration seminar. real world application: walking across the street to the pub on break to shotgun a beer.
Chicks dig it when you smell like bong water and frebreeze.
On a scale of 1 to hungover I’m definitely throwing up at the office today.
You were sober bartending last night right?
Sorta. I remember you crying, ripping rose petals off the flower stem and slowly sprinkling them behind the bar at me and singing softly
Romantic
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