Dub. In the bra. Dub in the bra.
he invited me to an all week drinking party at his house. apparently he knows the key to my heart is booze shaped.
so my doctor just swabbed my throat, and he looked up in suprise when i had no gag reflex. yea, he just judged me.
I've been here 20 minutes and some creepy old man told me he wanted to know what my insides felt like. I hate gay bars.
He paid me to blow him while doing a handstand. Does that make me a whore or just a budding gymnast?
So, your mugshot picture is behind the counter at B-Dubs, with the caption: "not allowed on premesis."
Please, take the 2 shots of vodka that I left as an apologie.
Some kid just stopped wherever he was walking, turned to me, and gave me a slow clap. So I'm pretty sure my walk of shame beats yours.
90 seconds of pumping and 2 months of bragging all summer. So much for my reputation here.
Drowning in science and also vodka. Hope you're having fun.
you walked in, put on rap music and started chugging vodka
The only way I'll cross anything off my to do list today is if I write 'eat melted cheese' on it
pesky things like morals, self-preservation and cowardice are not needed. overkill is nothing but a word. there will be blood.
he had a bulletproof vest and a pocket full of lollipops! how was i suppose to say no.
And on the way out from Applebee's he tried to take the basket of toothpicks claiming he was using them as a tax write off. Last time I babysit my dad on thirsty Thursday.
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