Some broad at the bar just asked me how much money I make. I don't know whats worse, the question or the answer.
FYI you just passed out mid-blow job. Consider this my letter of resignation.
Taking Gomer to the ER. He tore something trying to stretch his nutsack enough to put his balls in his own ass. I need new friends.
I'm going to fuck every single member of the men's olympic swimming team and no one is going to stop me
Opened my purse to realize I have someone else's birth certificate. What happens to me in college?
What? My family got wasted on patron and I threw up on my pants and said it was gravy. Hot mess.
I'm gonna keep a minimum of five drink promise to myself
You mean maximum 5?
Get off me. I'm done. I want a cookie.
The bald guy bought me a shot so I chugged it and then walked out to the middle of the dance floor and told an old woman that might be your moms twin to bend it over...We didn't end on a good note though. Dude she stepped on my vans.
Sarah is throwing up still and I'm eating salad with my fingers
Need a Dr's note to excuse me from blowjobs for 3-6 weeks while my jaw heals..
I mean we all knew i was gonna get arrested eventually but shoplifting is lame so dont tell anyone. Well just let them assume public nudity or something
Also: that bruise on my leg where you left like 3 sets of teeth marks keeps getting run into the corners of desks and shit. And I can't even complain to anyone at work
My thoughts mid terrible hookup: do people normally read a magazine right about now?
Like how do you live your life and have never made a grilled cheese? The audacity of some people
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