This is the worst date ever. Pls kill me. No, wait, scratch that, stick to the original plan of killing Paris Hilton, I'll live though this
I may or may not be drunk driving a golf cart. Vegaaaassssssss.
I put the beer in my little red riding hood basket.
My poo smells like dog food. That's how I know it was a good night.
I'm in Target and the lady in front of me is buying three Summer's Eve douches, a box of fishsticks and a giant bottle of vodka. The sad thing is I get it.
I had fun this weekend too. According to Web MD, my symptoms say I had a miscarriage.
So his "youporn" cam totally caught me stealing quesadilla leftovers.
The dingo escaped by eating a hole through my screen door. It's loose in the city somewhere.
Just saw pictures of a pregnant teen from my hometown with an American flag wrapped around her naked body posted on FB without irony. These are my roots.
I know that we've never been that tight but I want you to meet my cat before I move.
My coworker's brand new computer showed up today. He's on vacation for the next week. Brian and I are installing Windows 98 on it.
That tampon felt like a stick in my vagina, I am never making a drunken tampon choice again. Friends don't let friends choose tampons drunk.
How the hell could he be confused. He had a naked girl running to him. I feel like he would enjoy that.
NO HE PUT HIS HAND IN HIS PANTS BEFORE HE TOUCHED THE BONG.
ILLEGAL
Thank fucking Christ I was not wearing pants or eating chocolate cake last night.
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