i puked out the bus window last night on the way home. i remember it, but i don't remember everyone else screaming to put their windows up.
She sprinted out of the bathroom and ran all the way into the middle of the street. Five minutes later she came back with a banana nut muffin. She's that kind of drunk.
I knew the night had taken a turn when we showed up and our flabongo was being chilled in the freezer.
There are pictures of you on the shoulders of some old guy dressed as borat
RIGHT?!?! I'M ACTUALLY UPSET I DON'T GET TO MAKE THE 2.3 MILE TREK TO SUCK HIS COCK, yes I google earthed it.
I showed that dick picture that your date texted you to everyone because you passed out and left your phone unattended. Your fault. Plus his cock was big so his fault too.
You started an entire relationship based only on sex and emoticons.
You should have hard cock pics on hand to send in the situation that you can't stop driving, pull out your cock, browse the countless pics I've sent you of my tits, get him hard and text a pic through. I mean, it's simple sexting ettiquette.
Wanna play whack-a-mole in my pants?
Your word choices worry me.
Pretty sure that propositioning you to fly across the country for sex fest '13 isn't something my husband would approve of.
I just spent 12 consecutive hours in the same outfit and none of it was pajamas. If that's not personal growth, I don't know what is.
I also don't hate being called a giant sack of cheese. Is that weird?
It's scary that my vibrator is a dangerous weapon. I want a new one.
I told him I thought I was pregnant and he told me he accidentally killed my bird.
Circle of life.
He had a tattoo of the Batman logo around his asshole. I noped right the hell out of there.
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