I picked my nose. Flicked it. I heard it hit something. Next thing I know, it's floating around in my wine glass.
it's like god just wants me to be high for five days in a row. keep the blizzards coming.
complete strangers are now referring to me as 'the bourbon guy.' i can live with this.
Hmmm just stalked him and according to his facebook he wants "whatever he can get." obviously he'd be open to the idea.
I know it was you because you're the only person I know who gets drunk and craves soup.
Soup is delicious
Frozen pudding on a popsicle stick. Bill Cosby would be so proud of drunk me.
Okay. We're coming naked. We need Saran wrap and plastic forks.
I told her my hands were paint brushes and her vagina was my canvas
he kept telling me how much his girlfriend would love me while we were making. why does tequila always do this to me?
The reality is I'm 24 and I have terminal breast cancer. Fuck yeah I'm going have sex with every hot guy I can. What, am I gonna worry about getting an STD or pregnant at this point? If I'm gonna die, I want to have any many big dicks as I can while I'm still able.
I'll always remember you bringing me that pregnancy test in the middle of an ice storm. Best friend ever.
If I could drive and get you Starbucks I would... But that's probably not a good idea. On account of the drugs.
There comes a point, as I lay on the floor of the work disabled toilets contemplating catching 10 minutes sleep between chunders, that I wonder if its really worth it
The last thing I need is a possessed urethra.
I'm at forever 21 and someone pooped in the dressing room.
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