the kid next to me in training is drinking sangria. its 9am here in case you couldnt calculate. its going to be a good year.
What's the second line of that rhyme that starts "Vicodin before scotch...?"
I put labels all over the house on things I think are mine. A cactus, the dog, and a bottle of wine.
I will not fuck this loser. I will not fuck this loser. I will not fuck this loser.
Yeah kinda weird. My grandparents are here for dinner and I'm chilling on the couch close to tripping out on pain killers. My pap asked me how works going and I prettymuch drooled on myself as an answer.
Because at some point last night we decided that shotgunning beers from a paint stick was a good idea
I think this agreement was sent by God. I get to do my own thing, get laid, and he still makes me breakfast in the morning.
Then you better bring Starbucks and a box of condoms in the morning.
Oh shit. This is getting real.
If I have to strap one on and give it to you good, you will not die revirginated. That's friendship.
So many gingers... It's like a beacon went out that said "this one is ok with red hair"
I try not to have friends with attractive fathers, it only brings my morals down.
Lets just say my thoughts when getting dressed this morning was "vagina friendly" options
I asked to see his balls for medical purposes.
You kept ripping all your clothes off and saying, "Let me be free!"
Thank fucking Christ I was not wearing pants or eating chocolate cake last night.
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