dude my grandmas the shit. she has a sixth grade education and got hit by a car when she was 18. she cant smell.
O.A.R does not stand for Old Recycled Abortions.
I rubbed one out into an envelope and mailed it to her. Game point, I win.
Henry's handball, Tiger Wood's Car Crash, Roger Federer losing ... That's it....I'm throwing my Gillete away
dude you guys. You can't throw up in the recycling bin. I don't think vomit is recyclable
Woke up next to my bed in a pile of skittles, sleeping on a pair of sweatpants. I can't believe the girl didn't stick around..
She is high at the bar - she thinks the bottle of frangelico is aunt jemima telling her to stop doing drugs.
He said I was almost as good as the wheel chair sex he had the night before. Apparently I just cant compete with 4 wheels
they're both probably 7 inches? or 8? I'm shoving a ruler in my mouth trying to figure it out
They can be so fun, drunk bruises are like clues to the treasure of what actually happened last night. "why do I have a bruise on my belly button? oh right. i was trying to turn my stomach off so I would stop throwing up."
Can you imagine how doomed are children are? I mean for one they have our genetics and then we will ruin them as parents. It will be the most magical adventure. Let's not start soon, too many adventures at hand that involve immense amounts of alcohol.
My stalker sent me an erotic poem. Who knew anyone could find a way to rhyme birth and girth so eloquently?
my life is turning into trapped in the closet at way too fast a speed for me to feel comfortable.
Noo not in a booty call way, in a 'How are your abs and penis doing today?' sort of way.
I have jizz, in my hair. I'm sitting in class with jizz. In. My. Hair. I need to make better life choices.
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