Sandwiches eeeeeeverywhere.
weed, chlorine, and victory. my bed smells like i had sex with michael phelps.
so either half this theatre is as stoned as me, or day daybreakers is hilarious
you wouldn't come out from under your bed because you said there were six-armed bears everywhere.
ohhh that explains the pepperonis I found in my sock drawer this morning...
no it doesn't.
He burnt his arm on the grill, then turned around and started blaming it on the burger buns...I think it's safe to say he's drunk.
It's a "nonproductive" (vocab word) cough. It's like a constant tickle in my throat, like there's a little elf with feathers for feet going Gangnam style on my "uvula" (vocab word).
I have to finish a biography for history and write a review on it so naturally I was like "getting high will make this more bearable" and now I'm basically inside the book at the revolutionary war with this guy.
Got another job?
If by job you mean clever way of getting free tattoos, then yes. I got another job.
That kid singlehandedly fucked the breakup right out of me. I'm only hooking up with Millenials from here on out.
Well, he didn't buy me a birthday present but he sure did give me chlamydia so there's that.
Fun fact. A penis can be used to catapult cheetos.
On a brief change if topic, last night I dreamt I got shit faced with bill Nye the science guy and we went bar to bar and explained the science of alcohol to everyone who'd give us free drinks. We wore bow ties
we should get together and get drunk.
On a Monday?
don't discriminate against mondays.
I don't want to be flamboyant (says the guy who bought a hot pink suit to be a flamingo for Halloween)--but I don't mind being a little extra.
I don’t know how to sext. What do you say? What do you don’t say?
Just start quoting WAP lyrics.
Randomize
