Hey its bob the builder. Where did you go?
Just toasted a glass of brandy with my own reflection to my dimples. Why are you not here?
I'm pregnant just thinking about him.
I have some memory of taking a dump in a guitar case.
whatever a "slut portfolio" is, mine is apparently almost complete
We're attempting to get a tally of how may people puked last night...Please respond with your vomit status.
This was my thought process as I drunkenly ran home: Whoa! I'm going so FAST! Why don't I run EVERYWHERE! ALL THE TIME! Then I peed in a bush and passed out on the ground.
So basically you were a dog.
Nothing like running into your favorite bartender in the middle of the afternoon while stone cold sober and being told your grabbed his penis the last time you were at his bar. My bad.
I just yelled at a bunch of girl scouts for yelling "cookies" to loudly. That hungover
ok is that genuinely the first four bars of mozart's symphony #40 sharpied onto my arm or
ok. i'm ready for you to come back and test the structural integrity of this futon.
I'd google it, but I don't really want my search history to say, "Name for masturbating on a flight."
I'm naked in a forest ranger station right now
He also needs to focus on not being such a little bitch, but that's none of my business.
Is there a reason why your pubic hair is a plastic bag on my bathroom floor? And yes I know its yours... You wrote your name on the bag
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