Memo to the bitch sitting across from me at Swamp: no one thinks you're classy with your Louis Vuitton and your Burberry scarf when you're dragging on that cig like it was the last cock on earth and you needed cum for sustenance.
I wish my grandma would stop using the phrase "he pulled out" when she's talking about her contractor quitting his job.
My corndog is like a popsicle of bread. A WHOLE. POPSICLE. OF BREAD.
Screw it. I'll show up in a white dress with a sign that says " I fucked the groom and it wasn't that great."
im shotgunning beers in the kitchen. alone. the cat is judging me.
Drunk. The frashmen love me. Give them. Toilrt paper. And shiots
To celebrate your birthday last night, I got drunk and sang drift away in buffalo wild wings. Happy birthday. The entire bar sang the chorus with me. It was magical.
I wanna die of smoke inhalation. In a huge teepee. Or one of those big things kids in kindergarten have that you throw up in the air then sit inside of.
Who the fuck was that guy he kept pulling his dick out walking up to people trying to hand it to people and saying go ahead open the door like it was a door knob
dreams really do come true on the roof and drinking again
You should have totally come, I started watering down vodka with cider. I have lost the sense of taste.
That was the night, like, my hair caught on fire...
AND HOLY SHIT FLUBBER IS ON NETFLIX
We've been taking shots, cranking Marilyn Manson, and eating your bacon. Your kid is probably ruined.
I'm literally trying to cool beer down right now in my car by putting it on my floor and blasting cold air on it
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