Tell your broad to take a big shot of 'chill the fuck out' and put it on my tab.
Omg. Get me out of here. Someone is playing michelle branch.
no. you can't hotbox the world.
Having sex with her is like doing taxes, Happens once a year and I usually end up paying.
What happened at the top of the stairs is never to be spoken of again.
We're listening to the crystal method and doing bong hits for jesus
How are you texting me from 1998?
I need to cry about outer space to someone. Can I call you?
it is my last wish that my tale be published posthumously as a warning to anyone thinking of eating burger king at nine am
turns out it took a Belgian couchsurfer dressed as Heisenberg to rock my world.
he apologises profusely for spelling mistakes in his texts but doesn't care about cheating on me. priorities
You know that girl that climbed through my window and got in my bed with me and fucked me? It turns out she was real and has a real boyfriend who is real pissed
I don't think meeting his drug dealers counts as a relationship landmark.
I remember 2 things. 1. Hanging through the window. 2. And she needing a bucket to puke in. That’s all. I have no other memory.
And now, by the power vested in me by the state of intoxication, I now pronounce you fucking awesome.
I hooked up with a sophomore, passed out at midnight, and apparently drunkenly peed on Nicole's wedding invitation
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