So I'm really hungover walking to work and these douches from comcast on bikes ask if they can take a picture with me to show that they're doing their job. The picture: me, this chick from comcast, i'm holding a 2 ft. pixie stick, a comcast flyer and i'm puking in the parking lot. sounds like their doing a good job!
im the poster child for why you shouldnt play beer pong with wine.
just gave a yankee's fan wrong directions to Fenway....welcome to boston asshole
you dipped you banana in queso last night.
Just woke up from a dream where you lived in a gingerbread house on a snowy cliff by the sea. The dolphins were swimming away from a giant dust storm. You REALLY ought to smoke this before bed tonight.
I would personally love to see the surveillance video of me throwing my stuff inside, peeing on the sidewalk, then crying hysterically when I realized I locked myself out. Again.
my hip hurts so fuckin bad. and I just found a half eaten burrito in my nightstand drawer.
i was drunk enough to give the cab driver my number when he said "you talk like you like guys"
So glad I decided to show up and puke in your trashcan.
These are the moments that bond souls forever.
It's a "nonproductive" (vocab word) cough. It's like a constant tickle in my throat, like there's a little elf with feathers for feet going Gangnam style on my "uvula" (vocab word).
All i hear is "BITCH BETTER HAVE MY HONEY" and i turn around and there is a dude in a bear costume. It was fur real.
Apparently I filled my purse with chicken nuggets and told my mom I was a "sexual squirrel."
Two things. 1) party at my house this Friday 2) what was the name of the Australian you fucked on the cruise ship?
I just want a simple guy who likes cats, tattoos, and doing coke off my tits.
What part of I just want to watch porn, eat Taco Bell, and masturbate did you not understand?
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