i'm stoned. there's a jazz trio playing outside across the street...scared that mike myers will appear & start yelling 'woman...WHOA MAN. WHOOOA MAN.' i'm snapping my fingers.
she was so ugly that the sight of her made me shiver and then i had to play it off like a draft blew by that only i felt.
There is still throw up in my sink from before break. God I missed this place
she broke up with me and one of her excuses was constant soreness... should I be sad or proud?
According to google history I spent most of last night trying to buy an elephant.
oh great, iTunes now thinks im gay.
I'm just saying, asking "Are you happy with me?" during a handjob is simply unfair and scientifically inadmissiable.
after that, he'll be sure to remember me. i'll probably forget him, but that's the way it should be.
Alas, very true. I'll sell some of my eggs and give you like 10%
And with my 90% I'll get a scooter with a sidecar. And a pony. Also with sidecar.
Maybe I don't remember every single thing... I think there's a hi lighter treasure map drawn on my arm...
I just found it. I hope it leads to food.
and a jello shot exploded in my bra last night. Now I have blueberry smurfette boobs. Awesome.
Fuck that. I'm not afraid to die. I'll prove you can survive on a bagel bites and rum diet.
Look. If you get me out of this speeding ticket you can bang my sister. Or my mom. But not both.
I'm fucking sick of guys. I think I'm going to date myself. No drama. And I know I'll always put out.
Why didn't you ever bring me to the pope as a baby so he could kiss me.
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