If there's ever a time when I've matured to the point that I don't want to look at camera-phone-titties, go ahead and bury me in a shallow grave by the railroad tracks.
Well after last night it's official...I cannot die...it time to use this power for good instead of handle contests
and this is why we should make december sharting awareness month.
I threw up on my way to work while listening to "the good times are killing me". this award goes to modest mouse for creating the most poetic puke ever
Because I can't get laid, I'm day-drinking and hunting squirrels in the backyard. You can take the girl out of Montana...
It wasn't like a party or anything. They played PlayStation and talked about sports. Then I threw up on his porch.
I hit a child with a fudge sickle from a moving vehicle after he flipped me off, I feel like a God. Tell no one. My partner didn't see it.
Can we just focus for a minute on the fact that I HAD MY FIRST LESBIAN ENCOUNTER.
Right. How rude of me to inform you that you're going to be an aunt.
His name sounds so important....sounds like the name of my future baby daddy to me.
I'll never get why we had to sing the entire full house theme to the cab driver.... never drinking rum again.
I've finally given up enough on finals week to wear the same shirt three days in a row, because I didn't take my hoodie off for the first two.
I told him I wish we were at my house cause then I could tell him to get out after we had sex.
Best news I’ve heard all day. Cookies and dick. What more could a girl ask for?
the girls would appreciate it if you invited over some drunk, single, straight men with low standards.
I don't wanna SLEEP with him, I want to start bar fights with him. There's a difference.
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