You proceeded to call me a hoe and then informed me that Bear Grylls is and always will be more important than I am to you.
As we walked into his room, he said welcome to the hurt locker. I should have left, but I love that movie.
Using his name makes it all too personal. I refuse to get attached to this one. This is all about ass. He doesn't get a name.
Someone fucked up, the stop Kony day is on 4/20,
I think the fact that I shit my pants, threw away my underwear in a frat bathroom, lost my socks down a drain in the front yard and still got laid... deserves some sort of a victory drink for myself or a blowjob for him since he was such a good sport.
I feel like there should be a database and you screen your boyfriend's scrotum and all the fucked up shit they've done goes on file.
I am trying to take a picture of a man in a wheelchair trying to ship a michael jackson portrait
I woke up last night a kitchen floor with my shirt off and I love America written on my leg in eye liner
We had an in depth conversion about the best way to take a dick pic. Both with and without mirrors.
Men are too sensitive. They need to learn to handle me.
Well, we all woke up in drag with no memory of why we were in drag. On the plus side, this shade of lipstick looks really good on me.
She left you responsible for her guinea pig for what, 3 hours? And it somehow died under your care? I will no longer trust you with so much as a beer.
I mostly blame me being such a miserable fuck on the fact that I was born on a Monday.
I want to conceive our bastard child on an athletic field. Why can't we make this happen?
Idk but when you think about it the last time I did bottomless mimosas I ended up getting my nipples pierced so it might be fair
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