I'm eating all of the evidence.
I seriously need to stop naming my lingerie sets after the boys I wear them for. I seriously just asked mom if she put Brett in the dryer
I'm still amazed at how you managed to puke in every plant on the whole top floor at the mall without a single person noticing and without missing a step.
We should search craigslist for porches to sublet.
I've reached the point to where my pre-gaming needs to be limited to pre-inning-ing
I had this image of some guy in a taco truck down by the IMA accosting you for a peep show.
I gasped. Both pairs of lips did.
If you don't get head tonight I will castrate you
Seriously. Castrate.
Oh god. I just had a sex dream about the talking dog from the Bush's Baked Beans commercials.
Meanwhile she's getting her law degree and I'm dropping Cool Ranch Doritos down my bra because I'm laying down eating on the couch
Something tells me your "Titties for Tracy Morgan" fundraiser won't pan out.
Hey by the way did you notice my third nipple in my snapchat
…wtf were in those pills mom gave me
I'm trying to find a fanny pack so I can bring pizza on my run
When you're as high as I am right now brushing your teeth is both magical and fucking terrifying
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