Woke up this morning to a janitor hitting me in the head with his bucket in the hallway of my building. An alumni was next to me because we locked ourselves out of my room and couldn't figure out where my roommates were.
So, someone in Olympia stole my credit card # last week and bought a platypus vibrator with it. That’s it.
I found out he doesn't have a facebook, twitter, or myspace. So, I'm going to actually go to his house to spy on him.
remember when jerking off was fun and not a neccesity
jersey shore has given me a vivid depiction of what things will be like for me once i get to hell
Don't try to dry clothes in the microwave. They'll catch on fire.
You can't just send the picture of my vagina back to me, 2 months after we broke up, and make small talk out of it.
I concluded last night that you have no tear ducts, heart, or sense of any feeling.
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
you didn't want to pay for the shots so you negotiated with the bartenders. Apparently 1 shot is worth 5 seconds of motor-boating you.
I just realized that the first thing he ever bought me was Plan B.
I found out he put two potatoes in a jar because he wants to make his own vodka.
You're dick is like the main character. It needs its own picture.
He's got a british accent, a tounge ring, and he's wearing an eye patch... Of corse I'm fucking him
Why did my mother make you get naked?
Randomize
