If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
I think we should urban dictionary "drive of shame." It involves a sprint to your car in his underwear and shirt, surreptitiously trying to put on your bra on at stoplights without attracting attention from neighboring cars, and lurking in your car a block from home so you can know when your roommate leaves for work.
i feel like the prize bull at the rodeo. everybody got a ride, no one lasted more than 8 seconds and i'm pretty sure i kicked one of them in the ball sack
you may be an alcoholic when your drug dealer calls to yell at you for drinking too
who knew getting puke in ur hair could make it look so cute and curly. minus the crusty puke part
have you seen my purse? i cant find it and my ipod is in there and that shit totally cost more than my abortion.
This kid is too lonely to be my drug dealer.
OMG HAIR ON HIS DICK. HAIR ON HIS DICK AS IN GROWING OUT OF HIS DICK. HAIR.
She says I'm cute and I remind her of her brother. She's too hot to back out now. I don't know. I'm guna go for it.
You came home with a traffic cone and said, "this is my birthday condom."
Your mom won me $100 and you showed me your tits. Solid evening.
They invented a new game at work. Its called guess if I'm baked, hungover, drunk, or some combination of the three. Its surprisingly very difficult..
We need to make boob twerking a thing. I feel like that's why vine was invented
Can you send me the pictures of me riding the penis
I am afraid of asking him for his new number so I continue to text the one that's no longer in service.
Randomize
