The way you explained my vagina was exactly the way I would of described my breakfast burrito.
woman puking in liquor store parking lot at 9:30 on a tuesday morning = best commute ever.
for real. he might as well bring dogs if they're lower than a 7.
Oh we will ALWAYS be together. Or I'll have to delete my Facebook altogether. I've drunkenly boobie trapped photos of us into every album. There's no way I'd ever have the patience to go through that deletion process.
Next time he asks to wax your nipple while you're passed out I promise I'll be sober enough to intervene.
I want what they have, but in the meantime I have a whole bottle of rum to which I'm quite devoted
You were so drunk, you called my cruise control, the "auto pilot" and asked my car politely to take us to Taco Bell.
There arew tilmes ina man's life when christmaas. THerew are times in a man's lfie when drunk texts from a bathrom hyufgirto. So, you know, merry chriastmans.
Although now I have "number of cheese slices" as a unit of boob measurement in my head.
Cleaning naked can be dangerous. Vacuum cord got stuck on my belly button ring...
Your boobs stole my birthday thunder!
shut up and let me use my vagina as a weapon of self destruction in peace!
I just threw up into a baby carriage. There was a baby in it.
You were yelling at a tree saying it should be in the forest..
Don't judge me.
Would the comment "Down Goes Frasier" be too inappropriate at this time?
Randomize
