I had to remind him that there is no "age exchange rate" between the u.s. and spain, and that 16 will always equal 16
I just smelled my beer. It smells like coming home.
it's like, God thought about making her pretty then changed his mind at the last second
In an unknown location. With a giant marshmallow stuck to my back. Hello breakfast.
I'm trying not to drink. I may fall down if I move. This is bad. I had everclear before the bar. Oh no. Oh no. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
I no longer see him as a simple set of male genitalia attached to a very sexy body. The title "trophy fuck" seems wrong. Damn.
That girl definitely just ate a hot dog and stared straight in to my eyes.
Dicks are so weird. He has kind of a feminine comforter in the background.
No matter how many miles separate us, I will always be here to get you through whiskey shots.
there are not enough nopes in the world for that situation.
And to be fair, I think we all suspect that forbidden sex with an outlaw biker might be worth it.
It smells like grilled cheese and sexual frustration
i don't know when underwear became an acceptable clothing choice for parties, but god help me i hope this isn't a passing trend.
As I walked across the lawn after the party got busted, an officer told me to chug my beer before I left the premises.
He graduated. He’s not my GA anymore. He’s just the 24 year old that’s helping me put a sexless marriage in the rear view mirror by exploring the Kama sutra with me
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