Your mouth is God's brothel.
The seats are awesome but you see two of each player.
Driving around Panama at 7 am looking for an open liquor store..
I just wanted to give you a heads up. There's a crab in the kitchen. He doesn't have a name yet. We are just calling him crab for now. Oh! and we have memosas!
She swung at the pinata with crutches
MAN I GOT NO SLEEP AND HAD A BREAKFAST OF SKITTLES AND ASPIRIN. I'M LIVING THE LIFE.
The point remains that this is the setup for some great stories
Or terrible, horrifying, traumatic experiences
great clearly means different things to us
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
Your exhaustion is probably due to your rampant sexual urges and the fact that you live the same life as a raccoon.
so I definitely just chased tequila shots with a biscuit covered in sausage gravy
Thats fucking manlier than riding a bear into battle
He was making a joke about signing my name on this piece of paper. He has a whole bucket filled with names on pieces of paper. I think thats how he keeps count.
I think my brain has decided it's boycotting life until it can do whatever it wants.
I don't WANT a sex disease! Especially one assigned to me by my supervisor..
He fucked me for my Netflix login, I fucked him for his HBO login, and actually I think that's beautiful
Yeah. Of all the things to be cock blocked by a plague is the most unexpected.
Randomize
