I hate when laundry day is determined by the number of cum stains on my bed
you said your puke was red because you were proud to be an american.
my neighbors are having lesbo sex right now.
I'm on my way.
Just walked by a group of guys calling out walks of shame with a mega phone from their front porch.
He was about to puke, and so I handed him an empty beer can. In retrospect, not very helpful.
DON'T BE A PUSSY. ONLY 1/3 OF THE WORDS IN YOUR LAST TEXT WERE MISSPELLED, WHICH MEANS YOU NEED 2/3 MORE SHOTS.
12 trash cans filled with water. Beer cans floating in each, 12 ft apart. Dodgeball. Ultimate beer pong.
Rules. We have to wear superhero outfits
thanks for being the calm eye of my shit storm.
Like there's an 87% chance I'll end up on the bedroom floor demanding sex while freestyling in your face. I'm going to buy rum.
Stop thinking your God dude. You passed out. God doesn't pass out...
do you remember in the middle of fleeing from the cops you stopped in the middle of the road to make out with quail man?
It's titled "A countdown to death. A psychological look at the downward spiral of actress Lindsay Lohan and her inevitable Hollywood demise" This dissertation is genius. Not a single sober moment for either Lindsay or myself. Good stuff!
The sad part is I didn't even want to get laid. I just wanted the emotional connection, but my vagina was screaming "TOUCH ME. TOUCH ME RIGHT NOW BECAUSE MY DADDY ISSUES ARE MUCH DEEPER THAN MY EMOTIONAL NEEDS!" Vodka has a way of getting me out of my emotions and gets me fucked every time.
He said that he had extra crunchy taquitos and wanted to go down on me.. I mean how could I say no?
So uh... Did you mail me business cards that describe my profession as "tortured soul"?
Randomize
