If hangovers were people John Goodman would be living in my skull trying to eat the back of my eyes
I hit 10,000 texts this month.. I think my grandkids have carpal tunnel.
That sound you heard was the sound of millions of brackets exploding simultaneously
I don't care. He smelled like a fucking chilli cookoff
I feel compelled to tell you that I woke up this morning and found an entire corn on the cob in my purse. Ive decided not to question my drunken behavior anymore, and to just accept it as my lifestyle.
After he was done he gave me a case of landshark and tickets to tomorrows yankee game. This is the best nonrelationship ever
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
Can't wait to bequeath this flannel to my grandchildren someday.
'I've been using this to pick up lesbians since before you were born!'
I will keep you posted and someday if we daydrink teach you how to do a footjob
i'm pretty sure you can't sue someone for "Taking a shit on my kitchen floor."
I changed his name in my phone to "Irrelevant" last night. Not changing it back.
danced like there was no tomorrow. surprise. there's a tomorrow
my very deepest apologies for the unintentional cock block.
I had to put my dog down, accidentally outed my brother, and was given a fucking fish sandwich instead of a Big Mac ALL IN ONE DAY! Am I really the person you want to consult for advice? Hhhmmmmmm?
I NEED HELP. IM TRIPPIN BAWLS IN THE BACK OF MY MOMS CAR.
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