the Monday before Thanksgiving is not a Monday at all. Just Thursday in Monday suit.
apparently he's bringing me two things i like. he said one was him and i'm assuming the other one is his penis
please don't text me until you can spell three letter words again.
you set the microwave for an hour telling me that the done sound was your alarm.
Rode my bike to work still drunk. Almost threw up on a camper while getting him out of his parents car.
Well I blew a guy I barely know in full view of a homeless camp. That's pretty tame for me.
It's all good. Going back to my room to try and air out my balls.
pain. pain everywhere. this is why throwing yourself at concrete is a bad idea.
Yes. No, I'm basically a superhero but with drugs. I'm robin hood. I steal from the rich (insurance and drug companies) and give to the poor (everyone I know).
Please tell me you have Advil or Tylenol or ibuprofen or a fucking baseball bat
I'm going to teach Troy such valuable life lessons. Yesterday I told him to stay away from girls who drink redbull and vodkas.
Being hungover in this office is the actual worst. Like they look at me and know I was wasted at 1 am, karaokeing Billy Idol at a gay bar.
The part where he comes over and ignores you isn't what makes me mad about that story... It's the fact that he ate your tacos, AND THEN proceeded to ignore you. That's cold hearted.
You're a brave, albeit stupid soul for wanting in on the fuckery that comes attached to my vagina
Don’t get me wrong—I love silver and bracelets—but handcuffs are not a good look on me…
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