He came through my line today and bought designer impostor perfume, just for men gel, and astroglide. I almost DIED.
Spencer Pratt, I WILL beat the shit out of you someday, I Promise
there's something wrong with the internet when a search for "barney the dinosaur violence" comes up with nothing
you scanned your fake to get into the dorm last night and when the lady told you it was the wrong card you looked at her and said this is who i am thursday night
i just made mint juleps with bourbon and fresh breath strips. i am the macgyver of alcohol.
It's 10am. I'm hungover wearing a flyers jersey and a phillies hat and eating a cheesesteak. I'm not the only one. Best city ever.
The bridesmaid just threw up on herself. This is going to be the best wedding ever
I just want to point out that nothing makes my hickie/hangover more obvious than sleeping in a scarf and sunglasses. nothing.
25 likes of a picture on Instagram of my butthole. beat that.
My gut feeling that we had reached a new level of intimacy last night was confirmed early this morning when you sleep farted on penis.
I kept telling you not to give them blowjobs, but you kept screaming back, "it's okay, we're friends on facebook!"
The worst part is there are all kinds of happy creatures out here like fucking snow white and i'm sitting in semi-dead grass, hungover with a burnt butt
I wish I had a tail.
Why?
...why not?
My ultimate hope is that people will hug me, smell me, and therefore think I'm classy.
I showed up drunk and covered in glitter, smelling like stale booze and dirty stripper and my younger brother gave thanks his life wasn’t a shitshow like mine
That’s how my thanksgiving went
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