By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
And there I was, sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor, my fingers covered in peanut butter.
The dumpster is full of naked people swimming. I'm going to join.
Most violent shit of my life. New Years resolution of eating better is already kicking me in the face.
While I was fucking him, he grabbed a taco off his shelf and started eating it. I had taco dripped on me. I have no idea where the taco came from.
Someone's having a good night if they're getting gummi bears and Astroglide.
All I've had today is a brownie and a shot of Jack, so you know. I'm doing ok.
There was so much jailbait at the festival that there was no other option but to drink my morals away
I've found my spirit animal. I'm a Snapple bottle. If you take my top off I'll tell you a fact about science.
She asked for references to decide whether she wanted to have sex with me. And she was serious.
I hid a TracFone in her bra. We'll find her tomorrow.
I've decided to give up hard drugs for the rest of the year.
It's days like today, when my bra and underwear match, that make me feel like I'm getting my life together...
Oh? I just remember dropping coins and trying to give the manager change to let me back into the bar.
Sorry, i'm on a strict diet of vodka and regret
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