You just made me feel so damn special
come outside for a special surprise it involves huge boobs
Apparently telling a group of crying girls that it looks like they need a visit from Dr. Phil isn't the best pickup line.
It's been two weeks and I still have carpet burns on my knees. Well done.
The last thing I remember is feeding country fried steak to my best friend in a bubble bath with my bare hands.
Last night he asked the cab driver "if you were in the middle of getting tattooed and the tattoo artist suddenly got a boner would you leave or would you get that boner??"
She had cheddar bay biscuits in her purse. Biscuits, Id and cash. I'm gonna marry her.
Is everyone touching their nose at me a sign that I should stop snorting vicodin off my phone in the bathroom at school?
Hey, what did you end up doing with those ski goggles?
Anything is possible. I didn't even know I was wearing the toilet cover as a hat
okay - we take $20 and buy each other some 'drink till we puke' clothes from the thrift store.
I'm 50% sure my cousin put weed in these deviled eggs.
Oh yeah. I pretty much fucked the universes brains out lastnight. It was glorious.
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
I feel like I missed the land of milk and honey and instead wound up in the land of beer and pizza. And yet, I think I'm happier here.
Cause I know you wanna ride the D like a Vespa in ROMAN HOLIDAY
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