Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
All I know is it had something to do with a plunger and tuna salad. I'm done. I'm quitting my job.
Just wrote a paper about alcohol abuse that sounded like my weekend...
Right now, my father is sitting on the couch, totally smashed, crying, eating pringles, and watching the credits of Transformers 2. Love him.
i almost burnt down an apartment complex. little busy, get back to you later
I passed out leaning next to a light pole. When the cop woke me up at 4 AM, I told him I was a block away from the apt, just had to stop to make a puke pit stop.
Did you write "I hope this gives you aids" on my box of capn crunch?
I just spewed blue gatorade in the shower. It looked like the ocean.
Boobs have been pretty central in my life somehow lately which makes me question if I am truly gay
I found a Trump-humping republican virgin born on the goddamn Fourth of July. I NEED to hate-fuck him.
First of all she starred talking about God which immediately killed my buzz
Great litmus test for what a useless adult you are: amount of shame you feel while eating a coffee cup of Fruity Pebbles
just said thank you to the lady who gave me a body search at the airport
if anyone breaks out the olive oil & slip n slide, text me 911.
youll appreciate my drinking habit one day...
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