Here's my recipe for happiness. Go get a pen. 1. smoke a bowl 2. put on explosions in the sky 3. take a bath. Do this for about 1 hour or until all your problems go away.
By the way, thank you for feeding me fries when I was sitting on the floor.
The cop and I then joined forces to get you up off the sidewalk.
I only get commercials for vodka and Rogaine now. You're exactly right, Hulu. That's exactly right.
I apparently insisted on hugging all the bushes and apologizing for pollution on the way home.
I can't help but feel like we would be friends still if my phone didn't always capitalize BUTTLOAD...
We hotboxed his closet and accidentally lit some of his shirts on fire... do we have a fire extinguisher?
I distinctly remember holding up a piece of ham pizza and screaming: "WHO THE FUCK EATS HAM PIZZA" in the face of a bunch of scared 13 year old girls faces, while my own sister laughed in mine.
I'm an approx 70% certain someone switched my UV Blue for Windex - just as volatile as you might think.
Either I think of sex like a man, or all the men in Vegas are women.
I think we can say happy hour is successful when you have frosting and southern comfort in your hair.
I feel like my toilet water looks different when outsiders use my bathroom...
Are you high right now?
HOW DID YOU KNOW!
I dont think you understand. A NOODLE FELL OUT OF MY VAGINA! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME LAST NIGHT!
Painted a stripper an elf costume. Her coworkers liked it. Now in a room full of naked strippers.
Drunk twilight is the only twilight
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