So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
he made me have a moment of silence for the half of my ice cream cone i threw away.
I'm a little nervous about this St. Patty's Day party. Seriously, we're still finding stuff from the Halloween party.
Printing the vagina inspector badge was money well spent.
Damn you and your Monday night power hours.
Oh they knew you from a bachelorette party! You were the pole?
Ohhh shit yeah that was me. Fuck. I hate myself when I do that.
It's 10AM, she's drunk blaring veggie tales and I have a paper to write you've got to be fucking kidding me
We fucked on shrooms. It's like his dick was a beam of light and when I came I turned into a prism and my orgasms were made of rainbows.
Yeah, but she is forever sending my vagina on some sort of mission.
All I'm saying is that any 24 year old guy who sends me a snapchat from the vantage point of his dick with the caption "hiding behind my weiner" is off my list potentially dateable guys.
I just figured out the time exactly by how many shots and beers that I've had since this morning. I either have a terrible problem, or a great solution.
Dude I was walking down the street and threw up in a plastic cvs bag. Tequila wins again.
In order to save time, dignity and liver damage, wanna get naked?
I cannot lay down. I will throw up my life and your life and the class hamster I had in third grade.
Could’ve gone my whole life not seeing a man snort coke off another man’s cock... but there it is...
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