I've decided to bang my pen-pal.
Holy jesus god. My teeth taste like street.
I can only name 15 people I've had sex with - can I just start claiming that as my sex number?
I have left a significant number of teethmarks in my prhone. My mouth tastes like tequila and cheddar. Tomorrow already feels fun.
You were so drunk last night you typed www.face.come/cheese.com as if you were logging into facebook.
I'm at the bar and they've turned up lady gaga to cover the sound of the fire alarm.
Judging by my dry clothes and wet sheets, I think I might have gotten out of bed, pissed ON it, covered it up, and passed out on top of it
I took a few sips of my hugeee bottle of liquid Vicodin and smoked my one hitter and now I'm going thru my attic like Indiana Jones
Getting high magically turns headaches into rainbows.
We finally have the house to ourselves and your out playing Lance Fucking Armstrong
This is that think about life weed. Thank god I'm in American lit this semester. I can actually write papers in this vat of introspective stoned.
Hooked up to multiple episodes of Even Stevens last night. What the fuck.
So here's my pathetic thought of the day: what does it smell like to be sober?
I've got your keys and your panties. You can have one back. Your play honeybuns.
It's the kinda thing that makes you wanna buy a rainbow flag and fight republicans and kiss girls
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