Dude she has a fucking rock collection. Never will I ever talk to her again.
Besides, I'm not in my 30's. I'm still allowed to drink wine from a bag.
That still doesn't explain why you thought it was a good idea to paint a cow on my guitar
Now that there's no chance of him coming over to fuck anymore, I'm going to put up a one-person tent in my bedroom and live in it. My bed reminds me of him.
I just took a dump to end all dumps. Other dumps have already written ballads about it. It was the Armageddon dump. Bruce Willis was there, it was awful.
I had one glass of wine then passed out for 4 hours. It's like I'm having a quarter-life crisis.
Why were my jeans in the freezer of the mini fridge, and how long have they been in there? On another note, I found my teacher's ID badge.
You were discovered in a bush, smoking, and singing "in the jungle" to yourself. Which explains the scratches, but not the orange paint.
Woke up on the couch with one cowboy boot on and a hat over my crotch. God bless texas.
Seriously, it's 5am. STOP CREEPIN and START SLEEPIN!
I'm by the tree and the Dora the explorer balloon .. Look for the Dora the explorer balloon
Now with the essential back story, I can empathize. Sorry about your beer and butthole.
we can no longer cook chicken in the house. his name is herbert, we are keeping him and can not eat his people in front of him.
It’s only loud for those who wanna get loud. The bowlers are protected.
I think/hope James is drunk. He's standing in the front lawn loudly declaring "I AM a popsicle!" Over and over....
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