I swear to god Optimus Prime and Megatron are fighting in my head right now.
life is all about the fine print - all i wanted was a fucking pony.
I don't even have to sign up for karaoke at duncans anymore. The karaoke ppl just sign me up themselves. Without my consent. I also sang stacys mom to some lady named Stacy who's mom died yesterday.
I'm still finding big obvious chunks of condom around my car.
He's not so smart and obsessed with sex and lacks listening comprehension skills. I feel like i'm dating a sexually competent sesame street character.
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
Do you think county jail has a Groupon?
there's still three solo cups of your puke in my basement. so that needs to be solved at some point.
Obviously. I'm here to let you eat things off my boobs and help you get laid.
The George Foreman grill is melted. I don't know what other problems could arise.
he had shaved armpits. I repeat: HE SHAVED. HIS. ARMPITS! First hookup of 2014 and it's with a weirdo. Alcohol:1 Me:0
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
Well, I dont really know how much penis you have at your disposal so I cant be sure
Dude, do you think he'd be pissed if he found out that I always reference him as my starter husband?
I'm with the cops, Trish's gay husband stabbed himself and is framing her for attempt of murder and I'm dressed 4 the club I'm wearing leather pants leather jacket leather boots and black club top. Embarrassed
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