Cold hands, warm shart.
Dude, it's gettin so bad even my fantasies just wanna be friends.
She transformed our coors light pitcher we stole from the bar into a fruit basket...
last night was the icing on my 3 week vodka binge cake
It's either jizz or frosting, and either way, someone's being held accountable.
our night together was a product of my beer goggles and jennifer aniston-like desperation.
At least he's enough of a gentleman to not make me do the walk of shame dressed as Santa.
Some might say its sad that I am willingly picking up a coke habit to be the skinniest bridesmaid... I think it shows my great dedication and proves I should have been maid of honor.
true friends will drive 3 hours to come smoke a couple blunts with you on the bridge where your car broke down
I miss using glorious as an adjective. I'm gonna start doing that again. And I'm gonna try to get cuntatrosphe in there some more, too.
this hospital has no fireball
I miss the days where our biggest worries were who was gonna win battle shits.
she was puking nonstop out of the car window in the rain during our hour long drive back, we got lot of honks
my confident boosted when he told me that it was I who started making out with him. ME. NOT HIM.
I AM SHOCKED AND PROUD OF MYSELF
Note to self: Calvin Klein's are not safe to shit in.
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