he woke me up at 3 am to ask me where my plunger, a towel, and staples were. i'm afraid to go into my bathroom.
he opened up his "box of magic": a crusty tube of KY jelly, three expired condoms, a fingertip vibrater, and a jar of marshmallow fluff.
Breaking hearts and overdosing on semen. That's my life.
Rolling one last joint on my Psych textbook before trading it in. I might actually cry.
In order of importance: Where am I? Where's my car? Where are my clothes? Who is this chick in the room?
Anne's couch, the bar, your car, Anne.
We're gona eat taco bell and then take exlax and see who can hold it in the longest. Loser has to pay for drinks all weekend. You in?
Do you know what the cost code is for strip clubs? I'm filling out my company expense report right now
I have to stop letting him stay all weekend. I feel like a cored apple.
So I almost just died there. And we need a new garage door.
Final Summary: could he eat a lit sparkler? Probably. Could he do it while peeing off the roof? I'll tell you when you get to the ER.
I don't care how hot she is, her cat has pissed on me twice.
Glass of stolen champagne in a to go cup = tastiest hangover cure ever
who knew my inner goddess was such a whore
this dude is way too smart. he just explained to me the different scientific components of drugs while we smoked. i said i loved icecream.
like sometimes I wish I was allergic to latex so I wouldn't have sex with so many people..
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