What are you doing?
High. Watching Billy Mays infomercials...
That guy could sell me cancer.
How bad was it?
You ran around telling everyone that you were going to click them to death on google earth
the jail released me with 39 mardi gras beads. I need details.
I'm so hungover I took Dramamine to help prevent the motion sickness of walking.
It's the foolproof way to identify who didn't get laid last night
One question: Why is your trash can full of blood and pop-tarts?
I bought you a small gift as a preemptive apology for being a drunken slut tonight.
You peed on someone's house because they had a Wisconsin flag.
You're wonderful. How are you always such a good friend?
50% genetics, 50% driven by a desire for people to drunkenly eat donuts at my funeral and then have fantastic cry-sex afterward.
So apparently nutella and chocolate body paint aren't actually the same thing.
Seriously I am not buying you condoms anymore. You're 22, if you aren't woman enough to buy them yourself then you don't deserve orgasms. Grow some tits.
Also, don't forget your plan to die young at a shrooms-fueled orgy.
Apparently I told him he would be good for human sacrifice.
I'm wandering around outside asking things if they are god
His hair is as curly as mine. It was like watching me go down on myself.
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