He cooked the food on a paper plate in the oven.
i can smell the iron from margo's period blood from across the table.
you hand the children out the window. i'll pour the drinks.
Do you want the good news or bad news first?
bad news
The bad news is i thew up on your bed, the good news is i found out who ate your cheetos.
I noticed when you had too much when you were yelling "HOE-HAVE-A-SEAT" to his cat.
you were watching the nanny crying, saying I wish I was that thin eating twinkies. THAT DRUNK.
Pretty sure I blacked out the last 48 hours, the last thing I remember is the 4 pm bar crawl on Thurs
Can you believe they're going to let me be a doctor?
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
She gets me. First thing she said this morning "I'll buy breakfast if you can tell me my name."
He has in a pan: ten pieces of bacon, two cloves of garlic, an egg (not scrambled or hard boiled, just an egg) and frozen corn.
What goes on in that head of yours?
Gay sex, for the most part. Why?
Watching him and my sister argue over a rum and coke about who's going to chop the coffee table in half with a hatchet...
On a scale of one to liver failure, how bad would it be if I played thunderstruck alone?
I threw up in my backpack last night, but at least it wasn't in the pizza box again
It's just not St. Patrick's Day until someone pukes on your panties.
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