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I wish I could get a medical alert bracelet that just reads "PLEASE delete browsing history!"
God grant me the Xanax® to accept the things I cannot change; Percocet® to change the things I can; and Vicodin® to know the difference.
People assume I'm using alcohol as a crutch, but actually it's more of a wheelchair.
That awkward moment when the prostitute reminds me that I still have 57 minutes.
OMG, I just totally stepped on a crack and now my mother isn't answering her phone. What have I done?
WTF Capri Sun? Your new "Colostomy" flavor is atrocious! Also, hard to get the straw in.
Ok, so I can't drink and tweet and spell. Can we we just go for two out of three?