how the fuck am i supposed to make breakfast with spaghettios and mustard
i woke up this morning in my bathroom,naked, with my boxers around my face and puke and shit on the floor and wondering why i didn't have a toenail on my one big toe.
compared to you, a hobo is quite responsible.
And then I have a slight inkling that I went up to the bar and tried to order the bartender.
Every one of her profile pictures looks like an ad for American Apparel. Of course she has syphilis.
the brownie started to kick in before i finished the essay... it became a race against my own increasing intoxication
I'm drinking vodka out of a coffee pot. and i'm not even mad about it
she literally hasn't taken the mardi gras beads off in three days. she showered in them. TWICE.
She was just a sweet cute intern for us until I saw her naked in my bed the day after the Christmas party
Don't worry, the house smells like waffles more than sex
Look, all I'm looking for is a good time and someone whose chest I can bury my face in
I have no clue how you survived last night but I applaud you. 21 body shots off 9 bodies in under four hours has to be a record.
The not so cute guy next to me made me play Kid Rock on the jukebox but I'm a big believer in free drinks so I obliged.
the guy in front of me in walmart is buying a blowtorch, potato chips, and condoms. I'm curious and horrified at the same time.
Everythings in imax form. Space oddessys are formed. Adventure at every moment and everything is epic. My mouth hass lemons. Yum.
And now Google thinks I have a hard hat fetish...maybe I do...
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