4:25 am: I want you here. Ugh.
Swine flu. Run for my life!
WTF?! TAYLOR SWIFT JUST WON ARTIST OF THE YEAR OVER MICHAEL JACKSON?! WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?!
Call me pathetic, but saying "tits for ireland" is working out really well on chatroulette today.
Was finally able to jerk off without the motion giving me a migraine. Think my hangover's getting better.
Dude with the Beatles haircut just got his pilots license and wants to take us up to do a case race mid flight. Don't tell me networking is unnecessary.
Why did you put hummus in my pillow case?
I thought my dog was a polar bear. I kept asking how the north pole was this time of year.
They were swingers. Real swingers. Thought it was going to be awesome until some fat guy tried to put my dick in his mouth.
It's an open bar. I'm gonna be gone when you get here.
Text me the address now before you're too drunk to text English.
If I could run through a field of Reece's and Oreos, dive off a milkfall into a bowl of cereal. My Life would complete.
She's passed out laying in the middle of the street. Cars are honking at her and going around her body. We need to stop playing BONECRUSHER.
Whatever, you're gonna have to break it to mom that the reason I was so drunk at Christmas dinner is because she wouldn't stop asking me why I don't have a boyfriend
His eyefucking isn't even normal eyefucking; it's eye anal.
Fortunatly we found him, he was on my roof. Unfortunatly, we can't say the same for his pants. Still looking. BRB.
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