Last night i was so high that i came home and did a taste test of every vitamin water and wrote theyre grade down on paper.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I'm so cold I just used my boobs to keep my face warm
just walked past a girl in her cap and gown puking her brains out beside a tree. her friends were taking pictures of her.
We got kicked out after you decided to chase your shot using the soda gun behind the bar.
And I'm ok with his balls touching my ass
The kid across the hall found me in the hallway using a hot pocket box as a pillow. I said its okay I live here.
I'm pretty sure this city writes new vice laws specifically because of us.
Also, thank you for letting me cry in your lap on the bathroom floor. I can't remember if I was clothed at that point, but if I wasn't, extra thank you.
If I die, let him know that his penis was the last penis I saw. And I'm happy about that.
My fridge is empty and all of my food is in the bathtub. Just.. Why?
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
I had such a bad bruise on my knees from blowing him so much, he asked if he could sign it...
I just had a man tell me he was going to think about me when he was fucking his wife tonight. This is my proudest moment as a gay.
Have you ever thought, hey maybe the reason we were togather that long was because I was drunk the whole relationship?
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