bar tonight had a doorbell to get in and last night i saw my neighbors fuck on the balcony, she wore a nurse outfit. Missouri isn't so bad...
Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
I'm not high anymore, I decide when it's done.
So... on the count of three, we are going to forget last night ever happened... 1...2...3
It came up in court that I told the arresting officer my name was Thomas Jefferson, and I was born in 1776. I almost kept a straight face. Almost.
Hungover and I may throw up in my therapist's office. Maybe he is right about my drinking
On the 3rd day, she mixed sangria and orange juice and saw that it was good.
I just threw in a dip with a guy that superglued his fake tooth back in today. My life is complete.
When and where the fuck did we get a beach ball??
Don't drink and shop. I went for happy hour and came home with a fog machine. I now have no other choice but to scare the shit out of my neighbors with it.
I fucked him twice and then he set me up with his teammate. This kid does wonders for me
I just swallowed confetti and motor-boated some guys beard...#happy2015
Not a problem, sailor. I speak both autocorrect and typo.
Why did I wake up with a skeleton in my bed? Is it from the lab?
Oh crap, that's where it ended up. Yeah, don't ask.
I'm, like, this 🤏🏼 close to buying crocs
And you're also 🤏🏼 to never putting your dick inside me again
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