The producers of Marley and Me owe me about $5 million. That's the dollar amount of embarrassment compensation required for making a 24-year-old male cry publicly on an airplane while sitting in the middle seat between a gorgeous babe and a guy with a do-rag
Here's my recipe for happiness. Go get a pen. 1. smoke a bowl 2. put on explosions in the sky 3. take a bath. Do this for about 1 hour or until all your problems go away.
I just threw up during my phone interview for the largest PR firm in the world.
Harry Potter. Singing. Sobering up. In that order.
naw. unless you want me to sit in a corner, not understand english and eat all of your cheese then i don't think it's a good idea.
You had salsa out and brought a banana on a plate to bed
Side note... I would pay good money to have witnessed the reaction of onlookers as I sprinted down Armtiage with a 15 lb bag of peanuts under my arm
Some girl just walked passed me, said "fuck yeah!" and is now crawling up the stairs
I don't understand why she gets annoyed by my drunk texts. It means she's who I'm thinking about even when my brain isn't functioning properly.
He's on the floor in just a Burberry tie. All my girl parts just tapped out.
But that's fine. Because I am an independent woman who is going to pull some jane Goodall shit and save the world one day......or be a porn star......either way they are going to wish they had fucked me.
Hey, scratch that. I've shit 8 times today. I don't have the energy to get laid so I cancelled my date.
I'm drunk eating a quesadilla while this kid is tryina come over and I'm just like no. I want the quesadilla.
you know what? fuck you, fuck your nana, and ESPECIALLY FUCK THE BLACKHAWKS.
It was like sex on an active volcano surrounded by the night sky and bloodhounds. And by that I mean it was nice.
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