dude uncooked spaghetti noodles dipped in thousand island dressing is better than it sounds
Do you know how awkward it is to call the bar from last night and ask if they found my leggings?
I mean, I'm all about sharing, but when he tells me about his wet dreams about Oprah, I think it's taking it too far.
I want to have a prehistoric party. By that, I mean I want to dress up as a dinosaur and get drunk. That's all I want in life.
Our cab driver looks like Kim Jong il, and you're missing a fascinating conversation about Katie wanting to be carbon dated.
Also I want everyone to be drunk at my funeral. Instead of wearing black just blackout. That way everyone can celebrate how fun I was
I almost died today via plastic wrap. I AM THE REASON THEY PUT WARNING LABELS ON THINGS.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
you know that australian accents are like the bat signal to my vagina
And some neighbor just saw me naked and hunched over a bag of potato chips stuffing my face. Maybe clothes aren't a bad idea.
Also, McDonald's breakfast is now 24/7. This is it. This is how I die. Face first in a pile of hashbrowns.
Sundays were made for eating Ramen pantless in bed.
I never thought my gollum impression would lead to me getting laid.
Huzzah!
I feel asleep with my contacts in, with my arms wrapped around a bottle of vodka. Also... Do we have class today?
oh he pulled my dick out. wanna come over after he leaves
GET OFF YOUR PHONE
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