Apparently throwing up on your own cape is still a party foul
Im sitting next to shitfaced santa at the cuse game. My plan to be on television is now flawless
my feelings for you are synonymous with those of a grizzly bear and salmon. i don't want to nom on you; but i need you to survive
the last time i saw him was an hour he was floating face down in a pool... but i'm sure he's fine.
I'm tired of stuffing my fat into a slutty costume. Next year let's go as homeless girls. Cute ones. In leggings with camel toe.
Too lazy to make dinner. Had chocolate and scotch instead. Check in with me in a half hour.
Faces of meth called, they want their look back.
He called me at two in the morning to tell me he was throwing the tiny Thor hammer at moving vehicles. Apparently he missed the guy on the motorcycle.
YOU'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT. I CAN BLOW SOMETHING UP OR I CAN TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, BUT ONE OF THE TWO IS BOUND TO HAPPEN
I wanna come do a blessing for your apartment. And by that I mean I want to drink a lot of whiskey and watch ancient aliens in your apartment
It's just unfortunate that I still have the image of him having sex with me fresh in my mind
You were yelling at the mannequin and saying "DON'T LOOK AT ME"
I got so drunk that I peed my bed...and all over him. The ironic thing is that he slept in his swimming trunks.
I think i should either cut my hair or buy a dildo.
If we both don't have awesome filthy sexual experiences to share in the morning...we are no longer best friends.
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