I got otter pops to cool the beers, it's an all around better idea.
he calls his bong barack obonga, commander in kief. i found where i belong.
Just had to explain my "wine me. Dine me. Sixty-nine me" key chain to my grandma...she took it surprisingly well.
The door to door salesmen do not expect you to be drunk at 3 in the afternoon
My neighbor is on the his front porch in a robe dipping a popsicle into what appears to be vodka. I want to be his son.
I have a busted ear drum from when he honked his horn when we started to have sex on his car in the parking lot...
This spray tan I used isn't working out. I spent an hour exfoliating and rubbing the damn stuff in with rubber gloves. I wanted the alluring, sun-kissed, sexy look. I've achieved smelling like burnt popcorn and the cats won't stop licking me. I'm a salt lick for cats.
Things I have learned since the start of my first college spring break: do not fart in an enclosed space (such as a shower stall) when hungover. You will throw up. More lessons to follow as week continues.
he signed me a blank check so today i get to decide if i want to be a saint or a millionaire
fuck whipped cream. I'd eat vegetables off those abs
I may have been mad at the Supreme Court/patriarchy and tried to hate fuck myself.
Give it up bro. I’m not wearing pants or a bra and only an act of god could change that
I woke up with a shot glass nestled between my boobs like a baby bird.
My boss and I ended up at the same strip club. We both got lap dances while talking about work.
Drunk on wine at my parents house watching "RugRats In Paris". Comeatmeadulthood.
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