I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
I woke up to 30 angry texts and her Chihuahua in my room. Can you drop him off for me?
My grandma just told me that she sharted, no I am not having fun in El Paso.
I just found puke in my bra..
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on a related note, did you know that the fire alarm in our apartment talks?
She tried to escape and she fell and hit the door. She's gunna freak when she wakes up with only half a tooth.
I was going to text him and apologize but I didn't want him to think that meant I approved of him being my niece's booty call.
also since I use google voice my ads in gmail switched to DUI services after this conversation
The smell came through my closed door. His farts are made of rendered tires, and apparently, ghosts.
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i'm about to be the still-drunkest person on the ellipticals
I mean I want to go somewhere. I just don't want to put on pants or behave.
In that state of mind I managed to bounce back from getting hit by a golf cart and convince an investigations officer that I was okay to go into the game.
I did it again.
I drunk texted John McCain.
Of two things I'm absolutely sure: 1. I only took 2 hits off that joint and 2. I definitely ran over hedwig on the way home
I woke up in nothing but my socks and my hat a cigarette in my mouth and a beer in my hand..........GREAT NEW YEARS
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