You litterally reached into some girls shirt, pulled out her tit and yelled whats up with this guy.
just so you know, your brother isn't driving home wasted tonight. he is, instead, in my dorm shower screaming about rubbing his butt with my loofah; thought you would be proud
you had sex with a 30 year old who doesn't have a cell phone but does have an 8 year old son.
he's 29.
she left out the fact that she had a kid until she told me not to suck on her tits too hard or milk would come out.
I'm sorry but that single bed couldn't hold all five of us, especially with those boobs.
Ya well here is the deal with last night, it was the Biggest shit show we have ever co-stared in.
I've wasted nicer days than this hungover and dry heaving in bed.
She said I looked exactly like my dad. Then she made out with me. Should I be questionable?
You. Me. Frosting and a bed. Lets do this.
whoa! who said he's my boyfriend?
Oops. Sorry. That guy you keep accidentally running into in public. And at home. And with your vagina.
I want Samuel L. Jackson to stand beside me and narrate my morning shits.
I mean, who doesn't have an ex involved with bath salts?
Can you have a quarter life crisis another time? I'm trying to masterbate.
Oh dear. Sending much love.
Just send a machete.
Shut up. You had me at killer robots. Your place or mine?
Randomize
