I got a call from 999 999 9999. I didn't answer it because I was too busy freaking out about the number.
It was probably Jesus.
I feel like he would have left a message.
But I don't consider them one night stands. They're auditions.
I wish I was that guy from the miller light commercials so I could walk into parties and take peoples beer without getting yelled at
I can handle NPR. I speak hippie. I took it in college.
Just remembered to take my BC at the liquor store. Just swallowed it with a free sample of Whiskey.
After I threw him out he walked down the street peeing in stride. I almost wanted to let him back in.
She nearly killed the mood when she said "Don't cum on my spray tan"
I gave up. I'm crying over my notes. Oh, ya know, just another drunk finals week
I'm still drunk. it's summer. I just need a hot dog and an aspirin.
It's fucking New Year's. I can be soberish in 2013 after tonight. It's like the 30 years of grey area between Jesus' birth and death.
Head-banging is a very stupid way to injur yourself. But this opinion is also coming from somebody who can't walk right because they cut their asshole shaving last night, so it probably has little to no merit.
I broke her handcuffs. I feel like an animal.
We always have to do something together that tests the human limits of the body. Hopefully it has at least a 75% death rate.
You left your Xanax bottle in my car. Why is the label all smudged?
I spilled wine on it.
I feel like that japanese guy who ate all the hotdogs. Except replace hotdogs with sailor jerrys. And instead of a trophy and world record I just get a hangover at work
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