So we made editble underwear with fruit roll ups and fruit by the foot
FUCK TREES I CLIMB BUOYS MOTHERFUCKER
STOP listening to that song
update: the house isnt on fire anymore, but he is still pissing on all your stuff.
the house was on fire??
shit I thought I told you.
I have minimal recognition and a lot of burns on my tongue and my vagina hurts.
We stole a cat. That is all you need to know.
I only made out with him because he cured my hiccups
The best thing about my promotion is that I now have an office with a door. I can take my naps in peace instead of leaning my head against the stall in the bathroom.
I can't believe they pay you six figures. I hate you.
Dude I reek of $2.50 pitchers, $1 off/pack marlboro cigs, and fear.
Fear?
FEAR.
you goin out tonight?
who is this.
your orgasm for tonight
holy shit i just had sex in a phone booth i so feel young again
Today's walk of shame includes last nights hair and make up, an 8 hour shift, me leading a meeting and me throwing up in a parking lot on my way to work. Dear world, you're welcome.
We're gonna be late. Scott went too far predrinking amd tried pierce his own lip with a poptab. Save me a beer, i'm gonna need it.
You leaned over to me in the elevator and whispered "how long do I have to pretend to be sober?"
Hey, um, after thinking about it, I decided I really don't want to use applying olive oil to your ass for your fissure as part of foreplay because... well... really? Just read that again.
Clearly the Stanley Cup Finals good luck hand job IS necessary. You let the whole team down.
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