For real. Like, if I ever had to choose a last meal, I would just choose to get high and eat whatever was around.
I'm doing shots of crown out of a baby bottle. My friends are sensational parents.
Do you think county jail has a Groupon?
You showed them your nipple for dollars for the jukebox. You were depressed because only one of your songs played. Oh then you twisted your ankle and blamed it on your mad stripper skills.
No shame in my game.
P.S. I just made up pleasure scepter for the purpose of that last message.
Just had a flashback to Friday. Definitely had my hands in someone's bra. Definitely wasn't mine.
Dude you spent 20 minutes on the phone with dominos answering machine trying to order a pizza
i saw way too much penis for that to have been a funeral
And if you haven't kicked a pigeon you haven't started your morning right
The fabulous human disaster: it is him
I'd date him. I'd date the fucking shit out of him.
The people at Perkins seem so judgemental. Big deal if i'm handcuffed to stripper in a star-n-stripes bikini. We still gotta eat.
Fuck you bitch. You're married. You got a live-in dick at home for your needs. I still gotta surf this shitty town's bars for cock
Almost gave myself a concussion stealing a stuffed unicorn hanging on a street sign but hey I got home safe
There is a sex dungeon behind the wine cellar. This is why I hate showing foreclosures.
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