There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
Tonight i am praying for god to turn my pussy into apple pie because i cant count the number of times bruce chooses food over sex.
he was screaming in a recently acquired accent that he paid for delivery and they could cancel the entire order if they didn't come upstairs
I thought you said it was going to get worse not hilarious.
the delivery boy turned out to be my students mother. now she knows that i have incredibly low standards AND thanks to the fact that he still has dialup the pizza tracker was way off and she rang the bell and he answered mid bong rip.
my post shower fart this morning sounded like hulk ripping through a phonebook
I slept with an Israeli and a Palestinian in the same day. It feels wrong.
If there's one thing I learned yesterday, it's that if I really wanted to I could be mayor of Toronto.
I have been drunk every time I've gone to mexico. I do not remember mexico.
My hand smells like rave and peanut butter.
Also I feel like death. But like. In a good way
i feel as though me waking up and asking her if i went to the hospital was a sign that i was not okay
Glitter fights sound a lot funner in theory.
8 minutes into the New Year and and I've already sent a nude...new year, new me?
Who the fuck hid 3 Zimas under my pillow?! Icing doesn't count when it's 8am the next morning and everyone's left and you've passed out on your couch. Currently chugging 2 of 3...
FUCKIN BIRDS ARE CHIRPING AT 4 IN THE MORNING. THE SUN ISN'T RISING YET MOTHERFUCKERS, GO BACK TO YOUR NESTS.
I'm still very high. To be blunt. No pun intended.
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