There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
he pushed my hair back because he said it made me look like kelly kapowski and he told me to call him zach
currently hungover, lying in bed and cutting cheese with my drivers license. ashamed? not even a little bit.
So we went to home depot to buy supplies to build a beer bong but ended up buying an office water cooler that were going to put vodka in
coming out of a blackout being surrounded by Disney police was not as awesome as it sounds.
we need to drink more beer. the fridge wont close.
Judging by the crutches in the living room I take it you two are fine and we aren't going out tonight?
He just dragged himself across the floor on his back claiming to be "the swiffer" help
he said good things come in small packages and I decided to hook up with someone else
I think, at this point, getting pissed and declaring my love via reality TV would be an improvement
Of course I will... FYI I just gave my balls a crew cut.
Nothing brings people closer than bonding over tequila shots and running from campus security.
I am going to be so excited tomorrow when I find this box of crayons in my purse
all we have is white fucking wine this is a travesty it's christmas not a fucking funeral
Are you seriously getting this frustrated over a hand-job right now?
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