john hughes is dead. crushing any and all dreams of me ever being in an 80's john hughes film. bummer.
his personality makes his face look like an asshole.
I'm confused about why you felt the need to ask me to buy you life alert for christmas at 3:28 this morning.
She's dressed as a slutty Dalmatian. I doubt she has morals.
I'm doing lines by myself in the kitchen. I think your outside. yeah that's you. your naked.
Just came during my obgyn appt. I need to get laid.
Uuh, dude you came running out of the bar screaming you didn't want to hear that song, ran face first into a truck, spun around 3 times and hit the sidewalk. I tried to catch you.
Nothing like cleaning dried puke off your floor to make you feel like you've failed as an adult.
I'm wearing sunglasses around my house. Douchebag status. The hangover is real.
walk of shamed to graduation. ending college with a bang....
Not as great as when your drunk mom grabbed my junk, but better than when your sober grandma sacktapped me and grabbed my butt.
Walking actually physically hurts. We should do it again some time.
I ate her out and told her she tasted like pumpkin pie. She screamed that she hated pumpkins and started to cry
It's OK, I woke up in a drag queen's bed last weekend. It took me forever to get the glitter out of my cleavage.
I have a bag of frozen peas on my vagina. If you want to talk about real problems.
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