theres bread in your mailbox im going to eat it
nevermind its newpaper
you went into starbucks asked for a mocha "on the rocks"
we can't become the bulimic house in the complex dude. Besides, you need teeth for your career.
She woke up with blood running down her face and asked the EMS guy where the keg was
so im sitting outside the gym eating a 20 piece nugget stoned out of my mind, convincing myself this is more productive because im so close to the treadmills.
My shirt is ruined. If I ever get the idea of doing a tequila shot through my nose ever again, shoot me.
Drunk me thinks I can light up a cig anywhere, sober me finds this hilarious and highly irresponsible. The grocery store is not a bar.
A giant panda just asked me for a cigarette and said "man pandas gotta smoke too." There is something wrong with this place.
I just want a man to crawl into my bed with me and never crawl out. Anti socialism at his best.
I'm just gonna eat nachos and wine fruit forever.
Out of all the things you could eat off of my tits you choose lettuce? Thats so healthy. Yuck.
Stay positive! You think people like sad vaginas? NO! You'll get some!
I think I’ve reached sophomore-year-level of bad ideas
and you know that’s the highest possible level because it’s when I met you
I have blood and BBQ sauce all over my shirt. I blame you for the blood.
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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