I'm sooo using this pickup line: "Baby, its not the 2.5 inches... Its the 200 pounds behind it"
Fuck him for salsa, please. I heard its a good recipe.
You better be coming back...your date is passed out in a shrub in my backyard and I'm pretty sure her shirt is on my kitchen floor
If you ever bitch out on 72oz margarita night again, this friendship is over
Ugh I just wanna make an announcement like: Attention high school classmates: if we haven't spoken in 5 years, we don't need to start now. Please be on your way
I wish they could condense everything I needed, nutritionally speaking, into mike and ikes
It was like die hard. Except with more penises.
Took three klonopin and turned all my jeans into jorts. I miss you
When was the last time you wore pants?
Time is relative.
And pants are optional.
So how do I get back in good graces for trying to trade you for superbowl tickets?
Does your Fitbit monitor your liver failure?
I keep worrying the police are going to come looking for us.
For which one? Starting a fire on my porch or having sex on my porch?
Sometimes being bisexual is a curse. Turns out I banged both of her older twin brothers last summer.
I'm in the Sheetz parking lot waiting for dad to finish a drug deal.
We were driving past a farm when he screamed at me to stop the car, then he jumped out and tried to ride a cow.
Randomize
