he promised me brunch in the morning so i felt like it was ok....i really need to get a job.
Reason #82 that I need to get laid: my pubes are getting split ends.
What kind of friend are you? You don't even blackout anymore.
you're in nursing school, now tell me what to do about a burned clit.
I literally might walk of shame home on a cable car. If that doesn't scream San Francisco I don't know what does
I just remembered how awesome your handjobs were in 7th grade, you were a true champ, thank you
Your expertise in crazy bitches is needed.
Maybe it's just my body's way of telling me I don't need pinky toes. Like I'm the next evolutionary leap or something...
Matt says that there are strip club auditions in our living room and he'd like you to audition.
You know you're baked when you feel your throat closing up from an allergic reaction to the pecans in the cookie you're eating but you keep eating the damn cookie.
What kind of gift says "I'm sorry you accidentally stuck your hands in my puke (even though you should know better by now)"?
She's the perfect storm of great hair, big boobs, intellectualism, and mild moral ambiguity.
He used a trumpet as a funnel, said something about valve oil, and puked all over the garage.
Cocaine is ok on a cleanse, right?
That cat I follow on Facebook beat cancer so we're drinking tonight in celebration
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