The producers of Marley and Me owe me about $5 million. That's the dollar amount of embarrassment compensation required for making a 24-year-old male cry publicly on an airplane while sitting in the middle seat between a gorgeous babe and a guy with a do-rag
I'm on a mission to free the leash kids. Like liberating the Israelites from Egypt. Only better.
I'm so hungover, I actually considered rolling down the stairs to avoid walking.
have you seen my purse? i cant find it and my ipod is in there and that shit totally cost more than my abortion.
I don't hate you. My dick is upset with you, but I don't hate you.
I woke up because I was nodding to the dream question of "would you like a sombrero?"
I like that most of our conversations somehow end in us having sex for the good of our country
I woke up covered in his pee. And then he poked me on Facebook.
I need to stop ravaging the freshman dorm like a virginity-snatching dragon.
I think I'm allergic to vodka. Or people getting engaged. One or the other. I want to die.
I lost my bra at his grandma's house so there's that.
When I am this hungover I become increasingly grateful for having my own private office
I'm happy I peed in your laundry basket last night
Dude, I wish I could live my entire life blacked out.
But he said I was unpatriotic for not having sex with him. What was I suppose to say to that?
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