I wonder if Barack Obama has ever been this drunk.
I wonder what it would be like to go to the dry cleaners and not have to inform them that all my clothes are stained with booze.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
Why do I have peacock feathers super glued to my body?
we are playing family charades. my sister pointed at me. everyone guessed alcoholic.
Just scrubbed my teeth for a good twenty minutes. Herpes is afraid of toothpaste, right?
since i'm not going, you must continue my tradition of flashing every person there.
she smells like cat throw up and cupcakes. i'm trying to focus on the cupcakes but it's really. hard.
I just want to go to their admissions office and show them the video of him taking the flaming shot, and be like yeah...you let in the kid who lit his entire face on fire over me.
And suddenly....Tubas. Tubas everywhere.
Somewhere out there, on several phones belonging to strangers, exists a video of me rapping Baby Got Back on stage in four inch heels that I stole from the drag queen. Also I made out with the chick with the octopus tattoo.
You have the best birthdays
Wet should excavate the hamsters out of the front yard n give them a proper burial.
I laid naked in his bed as he brought me an ice cream sandwich so I would say everything worked out great
He somehow obtained a megaphone and managed to scare away the out-of-control house party—the house party that HE started, by the way— by pretending to be the police.
Have you ever looked at someone and thought…oh honey, you're too pretty for an ankle monitor
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