My body has become completely dependent on Text Twist. I can't poop without it.
i have one hour to talk myself into enjoying giving him a blow job when i get home
he was so high that he wouldn't speak to anybody for like 30 minutes, he'd only gobble, like a turkey.
toilet paper cling ons are not as adorable as the little red cub makes them look on the charmin commercials.
i don't know where i am. i made bad decisions. i think this guy is dead.
Why did 20 jello shots in a row sound like a good idea last night?
do you really not remember him getting up at like 4am with a leaf blower running through the house and telling people to "WAKE THE FUCK UPPP"
The highlight of my night was definitely explaining the bandaid on my nipple.
I'm microwaving a frozen bottle of Two Buck Chuck while watching The Proposal with my housemate. I'm not sure what success is like, but I'm fairly confident this isn't it.
cant tell, his cock is acting like one of those inflatable arm waving things outside the market
I got so stoned last night I thought I was in second grade again
And in that, my finest lazy stoner moment, I used my cleavage to hold my bowl steady while I packed it laying down in bed.
He wrote his entire dissertation last night. I can only imagine the frightening amount of headway he would make if he ever did things sober.
It baffles me why I still wear white underwear...
I want to strut with the confidence of a pigeon.
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