We can make salsa ya know, maybe even some hot sauce. That doesn't mean we're married.
you tried to tell me that ice cream had no calories because they were "frozen"
i just found out the cashier has a picture of my junk in her phone.
I don't care if I just threw up. You kiss me now. This is marriage.
The fact that she put a frat guy in check tells me I did some good raising my little sister. Time to see if she does keg stands.
Dude, she got on top of me, grumbled in a low voice "I'm going to make you remember me", and then farted.
I was having the most awesome dream about onion rings and you hit me and told me to stop touching you...WTF?
I seem to have forgotten that I am wearing a one piece bathing suit under my clothes
so I am that guy with the red solo cup in class. someone has to step it up.
The things happening in my intestines right now should only ever happen at truck stops and frat houses.
Oh shit. My drunken car sex is on Google Earth.
Seriously? You DON'T remember putting all those Swedish fish in the waffle iron b/c you wanted "One big Swedish fish?" That waffle iron was a wedding gift.
The landlord wasn't even off the porch yet and she was packing a bowl, I can't imagine a better best friend
i'm extremely hungover on the ski bus and the driver is playing abba. this. is. not. okay.
so this hot guy who looks like brad pitt circa troy era in my physics lab is staring at me right now and it's taking all the willpower I have not to procreate with him right now.
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