I just had the fat girl at the party come tell me I look sad and offer me a beer. I'm out.
I negotiated the purchase of an entire tray of like 50 jello shots for $8.
Questioning the dried heart shaped nutella on my boobs. Valentines day has begun.
There's some muscle relaxers in my bedside table. Sorry if my dildo is in the bathroom.
For looking exactly like her, she tasted less like her sister than I would've thought
I ended up naked with smirnoff caps on my nipples. Dignity is now a completely foreign concept to me.
My mouth tastes like what I imagine a hobo's skin would taste like.
He stumbled into my room, flopped on my bed, shoes on my pillow and asked me for a juice box. Then fell asleep with the juice box on his forehead.
I'm gonna go to bars and pick up women hopped up on democracy.
Woke up, moved an empty handle of fireball to spit blood, then put the morning cigarette out in it.
He came back with a Butterfinger and vibrator batteries. There's no refusing him now.
Can we make love to the Space Jam soundtrack?
Well, I can't remember Thursday and my left ass cheek hurts like hell, I'm guessing Mike's bachelor party was a success.
It's a shame, really, because he's got the cock of a horse... And the personality of dry toast.
Just peed on the front lawn of the capital building. Great American.
Randomize
