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.
The only thing that would make my night better is if William Shatner came and read me a bedtime story.
Dude I thought this was going to suck, but moving back in with my dad is like being at a frat party every night only everyone is 40 years old.
We really need to stop competing to see who can get more drunk, and I REALLY need to stop winning.
I vote intervention dinner around 6, make up movie around 7:30ish, then apology drinks all night. Then hangover waffle house in the morning.
My printer just jammed because one of the condom wrappers I threw when we had sex in my dorm
I guess our biggest consolation is that we haven't woken up in a hottub with a dead dude. Yet.
Hey... Tell me if you remember differently, but nobody truly saw me naked, right?
I am drinking fireball and apple juice out of a sippy cup like a fucking toddler.
You opened the door to your apartment and shrieked "THE CHAIR IS GONE!" then punted a bag of votive candles
Something I can get at drive through, boobs out, don't want to get out of the car
I can count on one hand the number of good things that happened over the past year.
The man at the checkout said "Somebody's not fucking around".
It's gonna be a good night
I had to put my dog down, accidentally outed my brother, and was given a fucking fish sandwich instead of a Big Mac ALL IN ONE DAY! Am I really the person you want to consult for advice? Hhhmmmmmm?
A drag queen just ate a dollar out of my ass. I don't know which one of us has hit rock bottom
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