My mom is giving me a "don't tape yourself during sex" talk. It's going to be a long car ride.
we seriously had to hang a plastic bag on his ears so he could throw up right into it.
The plus side of allergy season is that after our weekend coke binge my runny nose fits right in.
I just got cut off for correcting the bartender's grammar. I should have never accepted that fucking editors position.
Its like I instantly had a mental image of me in my mugshot.
You insisted that you sleep on the bear rug instead of the couch. You said it was lonely and you kept on petting its head.
Here's the level of my committment: I'm not participating in the Olympic opening ceremonies drinking game. THIS IS SERIOUS.
if girls can go out in miniskirts and reveal their thongs, I should be able to wear a sheer dress with boyshorts with the word love bedazzled on my ass.
This is why you're my favorite.
Should have know they were on something when he started filling a Togo container with fruit
I sent dad a photo of my graduation certificate from drug therapy class. It was his birthday so it seemed appropriate.
I don't think that calm, have their shit together people actually exist.
My throw up tasted like pumpkin, fall is right around the corner.
I should come with a warning like "do not feed me tequila or cocaine, I will ruin the party and cry"
This guy needs to stop asking about my feet
I couldn't find my contact solution so I thought mixing toothpaste and water would work
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