My underwear smells like fireworks.
I am not speculating about which disney princesses do and do not have gag reflexes
Whoa. I woke up to 10 new text messages. All about bacon.
All I remember was the chick screaming "don't hookup with him! His dick's the size of a cucumber"
Then I received a text in French, that roughly translated to "all you'll ever be good for is sex on the Internet"
My goal for this summer is to make enough extra money to be able to afford the ticket for water skiing naked.
we are sitting in a kindergarden classroom alone chugging beer. look at our lives. look at our choices.
It's all good, I've hated people for lesser reasons than being my ex boyfriend's favorite pro athlete of all time
I donkey kicked that mother fucker. Never stood a chance.
It was a door. A completely inanimate object, of course it didn't stand a chance you idiot.
His grandpa picked him up. Brought him to the house. And made him clean the puke off the driveway with a broom and a bucket of water.
I think John will remember that birthday for a while. I'm still dying at the fact a stripper was hunting me down.
He's going to wonder why I have burn marks on my asshole
If you're not my stylist, having sex with me, or agreeing to have sex with me don't fucking touch my hair.
So was it everything you dreamed it would be
I puked.
Twice.
So is that a yes?
I have vodka, fruit gushers, and health insurance. Let's party.
Randomize
