john hughes is dead. crushing any and all dreams of me ever being in an 80's john hughes film. bummer.
so we were pounding it out and someone knocked on the wall and was shouting at us
that didnt stop you
nope
the coke olympics were a bad idea. there's a tree uprooted in the front of my building.
She got all mad because she said it was "unprofessional" to tell my manager to go fist herself.
He just went up to bed, still drunk from last night, carrying a pear, a pipe, and an unopened bottle of wine. I think he'll be fine.
Just got to school and somone already mentioned the amount of cereal im carrying.
Every fourth of July I get sentimental when I think back to the one where we drove around baked off our asses crashing multiple cookouts listening to Team America's "America, Fuck Yea" on repeat. I miss us.
It's like all my brain cells are screaming at me.
I'm dying.
NEW INFORMATION meech found me passed out on a bench outside.
I made my own utility belt like Batman. It has a cup holder for my beer, cell phone holder, a little pocket for condoms, and a sewing kit just in case.
You told the cop you where the star of the Track team and tried to run away. So yeah, i'm not surprised.
When I come home and take my bra off and I'm served with a perfect grilled cheese along with a glass of wine. Priceless.
Give it up bro. I’m not wearing pants or a bra and only an act of god could change that
Who the fuck just called me and played funkytown
I hate her so much I want to fuck her boyfriend.
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