remember when she hit me with her car by accident, well apparently it wasn't an accident.
clay aiken is like melissa ehteridge without the guitar.
puked in the new hous. now it's officially home.
She wrote me a poem titled "Penis Flower" and it wasnt a joke
you threw up in the bushes next to the ABC store and kept saying "you're home, blueberry vodka, you're home!"
I'm laying outside on my patio attempting to get sun with a puke bucket next to me... This is dedication to the tan my friend
You're not on my level until you shop at Petsmart for sex accessories.
There are five fire trucks here and needless to say my booty call left so come back home whenever you like
I smoked out of two pipes at the same time while my friends wielded the lighters last night. It felt like I graduated to the next level of stoner.
DON'T PUKE iN THE PRINGLES CAN, WHATEVER YOU DO!
my mom talks about my drinking like its a problem and yet this morning she fills me a solo cup with champagne for the shower.
You're a disaster
Wanna date?
Give me one good reason why I should go with you.
Free beer.
..pick me up at 8.
well true... there's not a real discreet way to masturbate in public
breakfast this morning: omelette, Valium and baileys hot chocolate
Now that sounds like the breakfast of champions
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