Sometimes I wonder if we could be friends if we lived closer.
This concert is like a reunion of all my bad sex.
Woke up in an unfamiliar basement in a sleeping bag with Matt to a police officer shining his flashlight in my eyes and asking me my birth date and social security number. My morning went swimmingly.
I opened my browser to a doctor page titled "serious pain under left side of ribcage". Last night must have been healthy.
Sorry I didn't wanna double team his sister. Having whiskey dick and watching you get laid didn't sound appealing
I don't know if its because i'm stoned or what but painting my kitchen yellow makes it look crooked
i don't know what happened by from the looks of her lipstick I'd say she was skull fucked by a rhino
I was just stopped at a stop sign waiting for the moon to turn green.
This santa hat i wore to the bar, served it's dual purpose as a vomit bag.
I'm pretty sure at any given moment you could wring out my liver and get a couple of shots of jäger.
While the bouncer was checking my purse, he found a bag of pasta noodles in it and asked me why I put them in my purse. I said to him: "So the guy knows I can cook."
The last thing I remember from that party was me shouting "hold my feet I'm going in strapped like Rambo"
BTW, Julia referred to you as a power bottom. Are you available?
This bowl is so big, I just said out loud, "I'm going to die here" as I blew smoke out the cat door. Merry fucking Christmas.
Gov of Georgia is going to allow massage therapists to return to work.
Gives a new meaning to 'Happy Endings'.
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