So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
I've thrown up so many times in the third floor bathroom of Baldwin that they should probably just go ahead and name it after me.
2 things. 1. I just gave her a 6 hour long marathon fucking for America. 2. Thought of a new invention halfway through, and it's flawless.
I broke stuart's oven and showed up to the party with a squirrel.
Her life is filled with shit luck. Its like mother nature is having her period and just taking it out on her specifically.
Oh, and she's that dumb bitch that goes out in public in full make up and sweats with uggs. I hope she falls face first in a bowl of queso and drowns
Seriously how many times do I have to sleep with him before he stops calling me dude
I blame it on the rum. It keeps jumpng doqn my throst.
stoners and superglue do NOT mix
Today I found out that my boss keeps a breathalyzer on his desk for just these sort of shenanigans
The bump on my forehead, i think, was from falling asleep at front door, on my knees, slumped over. But we played good music so what?
I convinced her that there were two p's in Chipotle - the 2nd one was silent.
I just set my messenger to Away so I could run downstairs to masturbate. Working from home is the BEST
It might look like I curled my hair last night but it's just the jiz.
I put on that one song on Titanic so he'd fall asleep. When I was positive he'd passed out in a drunken fit, he outstretches his arms and says "I'm flying, Jack.."
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