theres bread in your mailbox im going to eat it
nevermind its newpaper
just printed 333 ways to get kicked out of wal-mart. hello thursday night.
So some guy at the party is convinced I'm Edward Cullen. He keeps calling me "Twilight" and following me around with a stake. I'm concerned.
I only put bad things in my body...jack, caffeine, chocolate, pills, and rich's cock. It's like being holistic but exactly opposite
we shared soup. that is literally the extent of my romantic life right now
It's official. This guy and I are going gay for each other. We're tasting the fucking rainbow.
Is everyone touching their nose at me a sign that I should stop snorting vicodin off my phone in the bathroom at school?
So apparently we wrote "Lube Shopping" in Paula's diary on every friday for the rest on the year....
It took me fifteen minutes to go from puking on my doorstep infront of my old lady neighbor to legit presentable person able to care for children. Bronzing powder and I deserve an award.
Don't worry, I could have been accepted their by waving my dick at the admissions building.
Trying to take a nap and my brain decides to play "lets have flashbacks every time you blew it with a chick in college". It's a montage of stupidity and youthful inexperience. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
I'm using the Malibu pitcher you stole from the bar to make pancakes this morning. It's actually working really well.
I may be a feminist, but I am not above using my body to distract you if it means I might beat you in a game of scrabble.
I bought the restaurant a boat airhorn to wake up sleeping employees.
I love you
He just flipped the beer pong table and set the ceiling fan on fire things are about to get crazy
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