I just rolled a joint with a page from On The Road by Kerouac. I have never felt like more of a hipster.
He measures volume by how much weed he can put in it and surface area by how many people can have sex in it.
He sang nursery rhymes to my vagina to get me to have sex with him..
You dont understand he had a split tongue thats bucket list worthy.
I managed to fit my wallet, my keys, my phone, Tammy's necklace, and $38.50 all in my bra. and $1.50 is in quarters. go me.
She only remembers me when she's drunk. It's like I'm a suppressed memory that only surfaces with alcohol.
you got me arrested i just think that goes without question you owe me a blowjob
I just want to have weird supply closet sex with him... and then I'll be all set. Fired, but all set.
Due to certain anatomical proportions it was less like fucking and more like childbirth.
I need five more minutes of sobbing.. AND THEN I will get back to studying
So much Jack, so little girl.
It's okay to masturbate while watching the Comey testimony right?
He keeps singing a song about someone called the dayman.
....fighter of the Nightman?
Dude, I just turned down sexual favours because I need to study... What the fuck is wrong with me?
Getting a smaller wine glass hasn’t changed the amount I drink—it just means I get more steps each day. Cheers to health!
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