Oh, I made pasta salad in the throw up bowl. I hope you don't need that for the next few days.
Manscaping on you would be like trying to clean up the oil spill with a dixie cup.
Made a visit to my old puking stall. I missed it.
It's not prostitution until you're out of college. Right now it's just strategic boning.
He tried peeing out of the sunroof.
I'm not sure, 7-8, the last bit was a rush of at least three blended together. Basically you fucked me so stupid that I can't even recall the number of orgasms.
So you know, I'm making that my facebook status.
I picked the lock on the bathroom door and sang him a song while he pooped. Why is he mad?
I feel like I can hear facebook. What did we smoke?
I found all these half eaten mandarin orange on the ground and the bruises on my neck are definetely not hickies
I could teach a class on "expressing your thanks through photos taken of yourself in the shower"
My horseshoe mustache feels at home at this bar.
I might as well walk around wearing a sandwich board and accept the fact that I'm dying single.
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
Ugh. It's days like these that make me wish my bad habits would kill me faster
I don't even remember what dignity looks like anymore. I JUST WANTED TO ROAST SOME POTATOES
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