Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
She told me at midnight she would blow me harder than a new years party kazoo
do you ever think like no deep thought could take place in the spanish language? like all they talk about is like tacos?
how high are you?
I was fingering her, she was moaning, and we were singing Mulan
I'll see ya tonight at your house...and I'm bringing you a special treat that starts with a V and ends with us eventually going to rehab one day.
If you listen closely you can hear the sound of inbreeding and shame.
If I pissed all over some chicks bed I would probably apologize for getting so wasted, not putting out, and turning into a god damn R. Kelly Cinderella... Not ask for coffee and a ride home.
Not blacking out at our finals party is my Everest
There was a point where you were singing "Friends in Low Places" to yourself while Juicy J was playing so I got worried.
Well I can't be held accountable to know every which time you slid a finger here or slid a finger there. I'm way too busy getting close to climaxing to document these things.
I'm trying to arrange "Flawless" to come on as soon as I get up to leave the room after my thesis defense. Bow down bitches indeed.
Is it too forward if I ask him to bring a condom when he comes over to work on our project?
She left a cookie cake on my porch, and the frosting reads "I'm sorry". She left me an I'm-sorry-for-punching-you-in-the-face cake.
You can now call me Rabbi, and I can now perform weddings, funerals, and other services in all fifty states. You're welcome, world.
I woke up with what has to be a whole pack of smarties loose in my bra. Was that your fault?
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