The only thing I've had to eat today was the half eaten sausage biscuit I found on my chest when I woke up this morning.
I think I'm going to die by hangover. I'm in my spanish class. So I guess I'm going to be muerte.
I don't think I have ever been told that I am "probably too drunk to pet the stingrays" by a cop before.
His fridge was full of blocks of pepperjack cheese, and his pantry was stocked with huge jars of jellybeans. Even if I'd been drunk, I don't think I could've made that up.
I hate that he uses me for something other than sex. What does he think I am? His girlfriend? Ha.
My parents got me a bottle of vodka and a puke bucket for christmas. I've already used both.
Is it bad if I just put band-aids over my nipples? Way too hungover be dealing with a bra
7:26 bus just came. I am sweatier than Louie Anderson eating chili in a sauna
My coworker's brand new computer showed up today. He's on vacation for the next week. Brian and I are installing Windows 98 on it.
She'll feel so accomplished if she finally gets to bang me.
I got my period today and I cried tears of joy. And then just cried because my cramps are actually killing me from the inside out.
We ended the night eating peanutbutter with our hands and smoking cigarettes in the house at 4am. Fucking Everclear, man.
You're a wizard. You are a master of disguise. You are beautiful. I love you.
It's only 3 AM. There's still time to get arrested today.
Clearly the Stanley Cup Finals good luck hand job IS necessary. You let the whole team down.
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