...so i touched it.
um. i met him on myspace...we text now, he lives down the street
Learn some fucking English or leave me alone! "Your" is for something that belongs to you, like 'your herpes'. And "you're" is a contraction for "you are", like "you're not sleeping with me".
I've gotten 23 condolence texts about Germany's defeat. I got 3 for our break-up. That's how much my friends don't like you.
I can't even type what I drank. I'll throw up
in a garage, wearing a toga, theyre debating the logistics of Coke Pong. If I don't make it out of here... it was me who stole your Barbie in the 4th grade- I've never forgiven myself.
I found ecstasy taped in my armpit... thank you drunk Marissa.
I can't promise that. They just put an extra shot in my margarita.
Dave called me blind fucking drunk thinking he was going to die from drinking with drake bell(wtf?) saying "it's all that drake motherfucker's fault" and later proceeded to tell me "you are my twitter"
I found her in my pantry with her shirt off twerking...I tapped her on the shoulder and she said she was giving Chef Boyardee a show and to give her a minute...
In that state of mind I managed to bounce back from getting hit by a golf cart and convince an investigations officer that I was okay to go into the game.
It was marvelous. I was drunkenly conversing with my professor in some of the best Spanish I've ever spoken.
These last few days with George, grandma, and now Carrie all dying have been pushing me further and further into rum's sweet embrace.
OMG. When you threw the used condom on your floor you threw it in my purse!!! I just went to grab my headphones and it was stuck to them!
the cop found his r2d2 bong and asked me if i ever smoked out of him. i'm like, no sir. he's like ahh. if i were to smoke, it'd definitely be out of some star wars character.
easily made my night.
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