If I could text you the sound of me vomming, I would.
I'm so hungover i just sang the alphabet to see if "Z" comes after "W"
I bought a fake diamond ring to wear, not only to bars to keep the creeps away, but so that I'll be judged less by the front desk girl at Planned Parenthood
he walked out as i was licking snow off of his car...
We were confused who drove until we went outside and her cupholders were torn out of the dash and laying on the ground
dude she looked like Newman from Seinfeld I'm done with this wingman shit
Shots and making dong molds for my gf's friends. Typical Monday night activities.
In lieu of flowers, please donate to The Hungover Children's Fund in my name.
Within 24 hours, I went to a feminist documentary screening with two state reps and you hate fucked a rent-a-cop on the helipad of your hospital. Somewhere our lives went in different directions.
I still make more money.
I think I shall call his penis Gatsby. We talk about it all the time, but I never see it.
Besides. I don't even really like sex because it feels great. I like it because for thirty minutes I own that guys ass.
You know you have done too many drugs when you gum the sugar off your margarita without even thinking twice
If he survived pride he can survive a gay bar
I'd do them all but honestly I'm so high that I probably should have a chaperone.
ps why does my dog smell like popcorn and a dryer sheet..?
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