So I have $4.22 in my bank account, just wrote a check for a tooth brush from quikmart, and bought a 25 cent condom from the bathroom. i don't know whats more sad, my bank account or the fact that i'm entrusting my entire future to a condom machine that was probably last filled in 1970
my dad just beat the shit out of me cuz i blew my nose on one of my dirty t shirts and he saw it and thought it was cum.
no. you can't hotbox the world.
You would only drink if the space jam soundtrack was playing, you thought it was hilarious that before every shot you said "y'all ready for this".
my mind is a poorly written porno when i'm drunk.
And your hair- I'd make sure to pee on it first.
Let's make a pact to never get in a cab at 3am together unless it's to go home or for pizza.
I'm not leaving bed today. And i guess my drunken ass last night hit my roommate in the face with a tiki torch then proceeded to cry while carrying around a picture of he who must not being name. I'm a piece of work.
I'm pretty sure I got a cavity today due to how many times I've puked hungover at work.
I don't think tequila will soothe the spots where my tonsils used to be.
Well, my breasts are swollen and I cried about the Iditarod. But I say PMS until proven pregnant.
Would it be playing god to put spaghetti on my pizza?
I am buying anal lube, an enema, and a bag of kit kats. What part of this is compelling the Walgreens woman to tell me to "be well".
Doing a walk of shame at Wal-Mart at 3:30am because when I left at 11pm I was getting milk
found a thong and $20 in my right pocket. it's going to be a good day
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