Just so you know, the bottle of red gatorade is NOT GATORADE. It is definitely someone's puke. I hope nobody else makes the same mistake I did.
There's an old bald Japanese dude on the metra next to me. He's drinking MGD on a crowded train, and rocking out way too hard to what may be the same Dallas Green song I'm listening to. Life is sweet.
She volunteers at a homeless shelter. You volunteered to drink 7 day expired milk for $3. No chance. Give up.
This whole living in Ohio thing is getting reaaaaallly old.
You told me that you only walk into walls because it makes the room stop spinning.
We sat on the porch laughing about hilarious the sunrise was. And that we can do drugs again in the morning, thank god
The chips are stabbing my teeth, and I can feel the muscle under my mouth contracting.
Did you fuck him in my garden last night?
That WOULD explain the dirt in my vagina
god it feels good to gold a bottle of opiates again.
I think that typo was actually more appropriate than what you intended.
This morning was so rough I can't even. I was cutting up vegetables for my omelet on the floor. THE FLOOR. I sat on the floor because I felt like I was gonna vom.
My plan for the weekend: 1) Get shit faced in Vegas. 2) Not die
It will be too late. I will have fornicated with the enemy by then.
I just realized that you're going to be drunk for daylight savings time again. Godspeed.
Do you remember the guy that smelled like hot dogs?
He's such a jerk. If only his penis was attached to someone else
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