Boner jamz table deep. plus bar deep. wiing waing.
You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
your tears are not going to buy me drinks...
i knew it was time to leave when he woke me up only wearing pooh bear oven mitts and holding a plate of thank you pancakes
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
He came on my chin and called me cumbledore. i give up.
good news. according to wikipedia, my blackout might just have been "post-trauma amnesia"
we got 12 live crabs and then we got really stoned and know we're playing with the crabs. thats nom watermellon nom. now i'm plaing with a crap whos such a gentleman
I definitely made out with a high school student last night while his sister and my brother were in the same room. I think we're all traumatized by the situation.
I used to be terrified of what was under your bed until I passed out there last night. Now it just feels like home.
When were you at my house?
whose ass print is on the piano?
Nothing more ironic than raw dogging some random Asian hottie last night and then doing the walk of shame home from her place mixed in with the participants of the AIDS walk
Godammit I caught my hair on fire taking a bong rip
Let this be a lesson to you, parmesan cheese crumbles are not a good substitute for coffee creamer, no matter how high you are
No I'm not lying to you. I'm just not telling you the whole story. There's a massive difference.
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