who the fuck tagged pancake nipples on my profile picture?
Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
Now that I'm the boss, there's nobody to yell at me for smelling like a bar in the morning.
i'd like someone to explain to me why my clothes are all sticky. including my fanny pack. yes, this is a mass text.
turns out I still hate jay leno...even at 10pm.
After Sake bombs he tried to puke into an alluminum beer bottle and shot vomit streaks in a perfect V out the sides of his mouth and hit BOTH girls he had bought drinks for that night. He was like an Icon of Cock-blocking yourself.
I don't talk to her anymore. I lit her birthday presents on fire. Who the fuck puts candles that close to tissue paper?
He told everyone he was going inside...an hour later we get a knock on the garage door from some dude telling us a guy is passed out on the lawn and we should get him inside because it's about to rain
Its like they don't get that I only talk to them before homecoming, thanksgiving, or any other time I go home. I love highschool girls.
when i went to the store to buy my pregnancy test they were giving carnations to all the moms and they gave me one and said "just in case"
I let that bitch know in no uncertain terms I was taking the coke dealer in the breakup
He tried to tip me with his police badge...
and you didn't accept WHY?!
I sent a picture of my balls to one of my best friends, so basically it was an average night.
she's the poster child for how alcoholism can be fun.
You were up on table in a neon bra chanting "YOUR MOM" while drizzling vodka on your chest...
no wonder i woke up with my boobs stuck to my bra
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