yeah well you didnt even puke from the alcohol. we cut you off and went to huck finn's and told you that the "irish cream" coffee creamers had baileys in it, so you shot down like eight of them and puked all over the floor. it was great. we cheered you on and everything
Im mastering the way to pass gas silently.
My dad assaulted a TSA agent this morning. Shut down airport security. Don't tell me that your family is embarrassing.
She challenged me to a game of rock-paper-scissors for her virginity. I love this girl.
He doesn't need to speak English. He needs to speak sex.
I love your family. Oh. And on a completely unrelated note, I know where we can steal a dog.
I may or may not have traded sexual favors for Disney on Ice tickets.
That's like being smoked out by a unicorn. If the opportunity presents itself you fucking do it and don't ask questions.
Meet at Walmart straight from work to buy items for hurricane fun. Then blast some wine, make some sex, blast a bowl and cuddle each other till the sun comes up?
That's the most romantic New Orleans hurrication I've ever heard of. Can I have your babies?
I am drinking fireball and apple juice out of a sippy cup like a fucking toddler.
If your gig isn't over in 30 minutes I am coming on that stage to come on your dick.
I like to oil my gears with cheap vodka and strangers
I went to Christian school in the 90s. I can finger blast anything, but dignity.
I still have to bake cookies and shave my legs so Mike can have MILF & cookies when he gets home.
breakfast this morning: omelette, Valium and baileys hot chocolate
Now that sounds like the breakfast of champions
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