I stood up and a chip flew out of my shirt and landed in the chip dish. I just walked away.
Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
She has her iPod in her ears slippers and sweats on and is walking around the house up and down the stairs getting "exercise" she just stopped for a water break
Thursday nights need to stop happening to me.
You know whats not fun? Making yourself throw up on a sand dune at 4 in the morning.
That was an excessively violent trivia night
I'll always remember 2012 as the year I hooked up with countless girls who had the sides of their heads shaved.
It looks like I colored my belly button red at some point
I've come to the conclusion all of your awkward and complicated male encounters could easily be intercepted by a man town Yankee candle and a vibrator. Sleep on that tell me your thoughts in the morning. Sweet dreams.
He threw me over his shoulder and carried me outside, all the while drinking from the bottle of rum he was holding, while my ex watched. I'm winning the break-up.
My old dealer would be proud of the drug cocktail I just took for my back pain.
This is like the first time all week I've properly taken my birth control. My ovaries are so stoked I just know it.
He makes bad life choices and drives a wagon, how is that not my type?
Btw, how did you break into my room, and why did you decide that covering the mushrooms with a blanket was more secure than a lock on my door?
I just want to see you and express my feelings in a drunken manner, but in a sweet way like my english accent.
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