Come home. Power Hour by yourself is only fun for the first 10 minutes.
Bank of America texted me 7 times in 12 hours to say my balance was below $50. I kept transfering money back in. Then I texted my bank saying that it was okay, i knew what I was doing.
No, no, no. Fuck you. I took a glass blowing class solely to learn how to make that bong. You shattered it and my dreams in a matter of five seconds.
There was an awkward moment where I was going for his cock and he reach out and held my hand, thinking that what I was doing
my mouth is as dry as a post-menopausal camel on antidepressant's vagina.
Sorry, but you probably shouldn't come over. I'm too sober for this.
im sober
you just pulled your sweatpants out of your bag and thanked them for being alive
I command you to take a shot and dance like the pretty little gay boy you are.
Every minute you wait for the sex that's not gonna happen, we're missing a tone deaf, drunk, tard-asaurus rex half-sing a 90's song to a bunch of other dinotards at karaoke.
I tried to smoke out of half a banana, and lit my nose hair on fire. So I feel like that sums up my life pretty well.
put something nutritious in your body. AND NOT JUST THAT JOINT.
Hey guys.. So I accidentally broke the front door last night
I'm super depressed and stressed and I just want spaghetti and sex...
Oh, and Harry Potter. We could be fuck-and-Harry-Potter buddies.
I just talked comic books with a cop. We high-fived as he was running my name.
Proud of you.
We discussed the legality of being a vigilante. I won.
Randomize
