He came into your room last night to tell me he was leaving, when I woke up this morning he was facedown in your hallway. He didn't make it very far.
dude Steve you don't even know. its just been one hairy asshole after another.
I find it very uncomfortable that I need to ask you to stop sending me pictures of your stomach
I CAN CONTROL MY GERBIL WITH MY BREATH. HE FOLLOWS THE SMELL. PROBABLY WOULDNT BE AS EXCITING IF I WASNT HIGH OFF MY ASS, BUT STILL
We now only communicate via Xbox messages. Living together is so easy
I am trying to take a picture of a man in a wheelchair trying to ship a michael jackson portrait
I wanted to make out with that blonde just so I could deck her boyfriend and make things interesting.
At least that would be something.
The notification you get from snapchat that someone took a screenie is like a formal declaration of blackmail.
I am at a new level of appreciation for drunk-you, who threw up into her own sweatshirt pocket last night in the car. Brava.
I think the best course of action at this point is to cut his balls off to get him to stop reproducing
Googling enemas while I get a pedicure ... My life in one senence
His balls will have been in my mouth at least once by this time tomorrow.
There we go, I shall begin my attempt to achieve whore status today
On today's episode of "What the Shit Did I Do Last Night," drunk me deleted ALL of the text messages I've ever had. Awesome.
What happened lastnight it looks like I had sex with edward scissor hands....my back is so messed up
my bad i broke a mirror over your back
Randomize
