I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
Thats cool. we found a cat INSIDE a coke machine.
when your friendship is based on dead babies and vodka there is a delicate balance. lesson learned. for what its worth, you are still my number one.
I have a spoon shaped bruise on my ass...
Dude just slipped a $20 into the jukebox at that restaurant we were escorted out of last Mardi GRAS. Hope they enjoy Justin Bieber's Baby cause they're gonna hear it 40 fucking times.
He could tell i had a fever by feeling my tits. He gets docter of the year.
My vagina can tell he is in a metal band. I dont know if I can sit down.
I feel like delivery guys should know that when you order lunch for one and answer the door wearing sweatpants, there's no need to say "Happy Valentine's Day."
Dude I woke up and he was pissing in the corner on his clothes... I called his name an he replied " I got this" and continued.
I snapchatted his face mid sex. Needless to say, I don't think I'll ever see him again.
MY HAND WILL BE UP HIS ASS IF HE DOES NOT APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT HE DID. IT WON'T BE THE GOOD-FEELING KIND OF "HAND-UP-ASS" EITHER.
Lest it die in the depths of eternal drunken recall denial...we peed in the street. Middle of the street. Simultaneously. Peed. Street. Middle of street.
I wonder how horrible I look to customers. There's cuts all over my face and I can't talk.
What are the cuts from? Head-butting the bathroom light fixture?
Honestly that's best case scenario.
It's sunday night and I just went to the store to buy cookie dough and condoms, I'm so proud of myself.
QUIT BEING A BITCH, DRINK SOME PEPTO, AND PUKE ON OUR FOES
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