I found out he doesn't have a facebook, twitter, or myspace. So, I'm going to actually go to his house to spy on him.
dude, never let a drunk girl playbite your dick. the doctor came in laughed and left.
today he pulled me aside to show me a lawn mower that he drew above his pubes. I saw his pubes in all their glory. Right there. In spanish class. Hola.
Well at least he stopped keeping track of money by bottles of McCormick.
I have no words
Neither did my mom, when she walked in on me squating with my balls in a cup of hot water.
Dave got tied up again. I'm done breaking into girls houses to cut him loose. At least before noon.
Dude if you're not gonna answer them I'm gonna stop snapchatting you my hook ups
Also I feel that I would be a hell of a sled dog operator.
I'll remember. Also, I owe you 200 for a pair of shoes that I carelessly bought to improve my spinal structure, to improve my health and ensure that I love to be 300 years old. Like Adam. Of the bible.
Last thing I remember is ranting about hating pants. Woke up this morning pants less. Couldn't find them, decided to leave. Driving without pants is surprisingly liberating.
I tried to take home a cat on broadway last night. I named him Pinocchio and put my purse down on the sidewalk and tried to put it inside it
I'm drunk enough to know I'm texting you and sober enough to know what I'm saying to you
you are singlehandedly the most cursed object the universe ever conceived
You were lost on foot. Texted us and told us that N*Sync couldn't save you, and then you "met Jesus" in your car.
I got drunk off three vodka cranberry’s and told him to “WWE raw dog me.” Fucking kill me.
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