My hair reeks of homosexuality.
I hate when my naked walk-arounds are interrupted by someone knocking on the door
tagging him in all 73 close-ups of your cleavage might have been a little obvious.
It was awkward being the only one at the wedding who knows that the bride and groom met when she gave him a lap dance at a strip club
I'll tell these girls I'm like the pet adoption center...don't play with it if you're not taking it home.
Just saw him riding in a basket on the front of a bike trying to feed the other guy beer. He screamed 'PARTY BIKE BITCHES!' at me as they rode past.
I lied. He's hitting on a drag queen now. Should I rescue him or take pictures?
Worst case scenario: I have VD and will die. That's the worst that could happen. As long as I'm around long enough to see the winner of bachelor pad, I'm cool
Drunk puking in my bathtub has plugged it up for the third time this year. I hate these calls to my landlord.
all my mom knows is what I put on facebook. So... I mean... She knows we drink a lot.
Pretty sure the nurse said at one point I was in full restraints because I tried surfing my stretcher
Cops on bikes. I think I can outrun them.
I don't know, I kept pretending that I was riding an elephant during. It was actually really fun, but you can't tell him that!
Some lady found my secret pooping bathroom at work. Do I fight her Highlander style? I made or may not be fashioning a crude sword from seat covers and toilet paper rolls.
Do it. DO IT. There can be only one.
You know she's gonna fuck shit up when she shows up in a neon wind-suit
I woke up in his closet, with my shirt inside out and backwards, Rolos in my hand, a tortilla with a face carved into it stuck to the fridge with a magnet, a homemade bong next to the bed, and the door off the hinges... I need a chaperone.
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