Tampa is so boring. I'm dying. I want lots of cleavage at my funeral. If i cant get laid, i want my friends to. I'm that kind of person
I remember why I come home for the holidays. Sam Adams is the cheapest beer in the fridge
You ever get that 6th sense feeling in your dick like you know its gonna get sucked later?
There's going to be a pool, lightsabers and alcohol. What could go wrong?!
We shot off some fireworks at 12 and then I orchestrated the group singing of god bless the USA all while wearing a don't tread on me flag as a cape. I repped hard.
I don't understand how these people can do extreme gymnastics and I have problems walking up the stairs.
my math prof is telling us what to do in a gun fight. i dont want to live in oakland anymore.
My final act is to send you this message. I love you. Tell my family that I love them. Except my dad. Tell him I said "Eh..." while rocking your hand side to side. And tell Tim that I will always love the idea of him. Tell Caleb I love him so. Take care of Miss Kitty Fantastico. Tell the world that I will watch over. Good bye. I love you.
You must take up my position now. You must pass out in awkward places as I taught you... Sears a hotel elevator and Burger King bathroom. You potential for greater young grasshopper.
Came home to my roommate drinking a 40 in the shower. Chugging with his hair still fully shampoo'd.
You don't know being judged until its 7:30 in the morning and you're on 2 hours of sleep halfway between drunk and hungover wearing pajama pants at an international airport while saying how proud you are that you found the airport's bar immediately and how disappointed you are that it's closed
Jamie's fucking a senior citizen and I'm eating chips and salsa in the shower at 2am, so whatever you're doing it can't be worse.
All right well I’m making her sugar cookies and sleeping with her husband tonight. Just another manic Monday
I'm naked, eating straight Nutella, and listening to "Make you feel my love" on repeat. So no. He didn't ask me out.
Coworker just walked in thirty minutes late reeking like weed and clutching a handful of scratch-off tickets. Also, there’s still a stripper pole in my office. Happy Wednesday!
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