And surprisingly enough iPhone does not have an app for Russian mail order brides.
Sundays have taken on a whole new meaning when I'm not in bed with an excruciating hangover.
Just ordered a clown who does balloon animals. No backing out now.
A piece of cheeseburger just fell between my tits. Consider this a "wish you were here" postcard.
I would be the drunk girl eating cake on the front steps alone.
i think i have weasels eating my brain. Also there is a skeleton staring at me from the back of the bathroom door. it's an awkward vomit. come find me please
Know of anyone who would be interested in trading weed for meatballs?
his finger was half off and he was more concerned that he wasnt at home shooting cucumbers out of his potato gun.
There was a time I was reining queen of Sunday funday... And at that same time I also weighed 20 pounds more, had the morale of a spearmint rhino stripper, and woke up most mornings asking more questions than fucking Barbara Walters. I think I just wrote my own epitaph.
Nothing like the judgmental looks you get in the bathroom when you still have last night's glowsticks on
My cat licked the coke mirror and now is giving me dirty looks. Bet money she has the drip.
A party without a piñata is not a party I want to attend.
Can I just go to one establishment in which I haven't banged anyone ?
It was a crazy night: tears were shed, blood was spewed, and bottles were emptied.
This whole thing is fucking bullshit. I should be wasting all my hard-earned money at Planet Con this weekend but NOOOOOOOOO. Now I'll never get Roy Thomas to sign my comic
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