At least I can take solace in the fact that with 8 billion some odd people in the world, at least one of them is shitting in their own car right now.
He's doing the 1:45AM lap: he goes around the bar, finds the hottest crying girl 15 minutes before close, and brings her home. I would feel bad for the girls if it wasn't such incredible genius.
I may or may not be taking a bath listening to the Phantom of the Opera. This lovely moment brought to you by xanax.
Getting cock-blocked by Jeff Bridges. NOT OKAY.
We both paused during sex to do the clap during the Friends theme song. Soulmates.
We're 17 hours into a 3 day weekend, and he's already shitfaced. He fell of the dock TWICE and insisted on wearing a life jacket on dry land.
I got laughed at by a homeless guy in a Daniel Boone hat. I have no clue what this means for my day
I hope you get eaten by satanic starfish.
I don't know how Dave is alive, I feel like he's been drinking since I met him.
He is such a generous lover, I can look past the fact his name is fucking Bob.
I don't think I bit anyone but I woke up to scrapes knees, bruises and new friends.
I woke up naked with a duck on my head. I think something went horribly wrong.
He stuck a cigarette in my butt last night. There is no coming back from that.
I know this sounds fake but she's deep frying a bar of soap right now
Come fucking get her
just woke up with nickles taped to my body. theres like a dollar worth.
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