dude, I'm watching paul blart mall cop. I have better things to do than listen to you whine about your recent divorce.
Blew in her face. She is Pissed. Yahtzee. As she brushes her teeth.
I've thrown up so many times in the third floor bathroom of Baldwin that they should probably just go ahead and name it after me.
The guy in the library beside me just whipped out an entire loaf of bread, a knife and a container of peanut butter and is proceeding to make multiple sandwiches.
Well if it makes you feel any better I threw up at Roadhouse. And then on the way to the train. And then in a water fountain. And then in a plastic bag on the train.
Vodka @ 9pm. Library. Nothing can go wrong, I promise.
This is like the time you took a picture of your knees and told him it was your tits, isn't it?
Seriously! We need to take her a thank you note or something. She puts up with the drugs and the extremely loud sex. She deserves a thank you card.
Ughhhh. Finnnneeeeee. I'll have sex with your brother. Sheesh. The things I do for you woman.
Ok here's the state of the situation: We're alone in a strange city with strange people with nothing but alcohol and sprite, I think we're gonna make it.
I just threw up birthday cake.. who's birthday was it?
He's not messing around tonight. 4 fist pumps.
oh the usual. high as balls and crying about the hunger games.
How do you forget making out with a coworker in the dressing room at Sears on more than one occasion?
...object impermanence?
Jamie's fucking a senior citizen and I'm eating chips and salsa in the shower at 2am, so whatever you're doing it can't be worse.
Randomize
