There was a fist fight in my basement last night at four in the morning, in case you were wondering
Lady GaGa only went backwards in convincing me she's not a man at the VMAs.
i just farted in the library and heard some girl yell it was sulfur gas. can. not. move.
he rolled over in his sleep, called me a hoe and then grabbed my crotch. some things never change, asleep or not.
There will be two dogs there to provide supervision. Not to worry.
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
The other night after we fucked we talked about Lowe's vision insurance. Never fuck a coworker.
votre penis est TRES GRAND. i used vous because your penis is SO big
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
she fascinated with the iron the back of the toilet seat. she made me sit in the bathroom with her for a solid 10 minutes while she just stared and laughed at it
I may or may not have puked in the ladies room. Now I get to convince my client to go to substance abuse treatment. Oh, the irony.
I'd rather have snapchat than feelings.
We were 6 minutes into the movie before we realized the whole movie was spoken in Italian. That level of stupidly-ripped
IT TOOK ME LIKE AN HOUR TO DO THAT. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO CONCENTRATE ON ONE THING FOR AN ENTIRE HOUR?!
Speaking of dumpster fires, your ex tried to add me on Facebook
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