They have to be talking about me. I never heard that statement until I was born.
I woke up (not at home) to find out I kissed Ryan Caberra, flashed for free gumbys and carried around an inflatable moose named Johnson. Great success.
its not facebook stalking, its market reasearch
You were waisted for 48 hours and the only 3 words you said were yup, sure, and michigan
Just threw up on my desk at work. They are making me go home.
As if me making pizza in a skillet wasn't enough proof that I was in no state to be cooking, this burn blister on my hand is
you did a full monologue with your sober self last night. different voices and everything.
Maybe you should start carrying pepper spray. You are like the Justin Bieber of lesbians.
My black heart of coal cannot compete with your boiling crock pot of teddy bears, rainbows, 90s music, and the good candy you get from rich people on Halloween.
Did you take the full box of samoas or do I not remember getting baked and eating half a box by myself?
The moment I was petting the giraffe was the moment I passed out
10 shots in she's sitting on the floor using the open dishwasher door as a plate to eat her "life giving" pizza.
Wasted. And I have 5 pounds of potatoes that I'm responsible for.
It's a shame I've been hooking up with him for 6 months and he still doesn't know my real name.
His dick is social distance approved
Social distance approved?
big enough for me to fuck from six feet away
Randomize
