I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
Matt just took me to visit my puke stain from 2 weeks ago at the train station...I'm fucking impressive
Whatever. I'll let someone else deal with his flacid penis.
Nothing like buying a handle and a 36 pack with a baby strapped on.
I think I'm dead. Why did I think it was a good idea to hang from the banister while someone poured liquor into my mouth?
I was the king of the handle race. My team finished it in 56 minutes.
you don't get it. Nobody wins a handle race. there just degrees of losing.
She just asked me if I was looser "in the vagina" than her. While gyrating.
I just masturbated to a Jock Jams cd. What have you done today?
So... Apparently, "Home" isn't the correct response when a cop asks for your address...
Doing the walk of shame and bringing my dad a newspaper en route. Favourite daughter status confirmed.
Is this a drinking picnic?
Is there another kind?
And for today's main disappontment. I thought I saw a midget with fireworks get on the buss, alas it's a child with cleaning supplies
When God made him he put all his talent in his dick. What he lacks in brain, he makes up for in loin.
I or someone else dumped a lot of glitter into my boobs last night.
woke up with 8 used magnum condoms bound together by floss around my neck, thats about all im gonna tell you.
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