Just got done reading an 11 page essay for class. Took me three fucking days and the only thing I have highlighted is the name "Alexander Cockburn"
She kept saying 'I love you' but i couldn't tell if she was talking to me or to her beer.
I just kept pointing at random people and telling the bartender to put it on their tab.
Make sure to show her the sewer we were arrested in on your tour.
The liquor store manager told us to drink responsible as we checked out and we laughed to his face. Like we're buying karkov at noon, responsibility is out of the question
I met her tumbling down the stairs chugging Captain Morgan. I'm not sure why she has the better reputation either.
There was a photo of his face glued to a lifesize Kim Kardashian cutout. By the end of the night he was doing shots out of medicine cups and making everybody hug it goodbye.
I'm still finding big obvious chunks of condom around my car.
I just did a Kegel and my back popped. My vagina is a gift to penises everywhere.
Getting high magically turns headaches into rainbows.
You know, having a conversation evolve from attractive men to roommate orgies would be weird with anyone else, but you get me.
The pool of urine in the trash can signifies both a regretful yet successful night.
I have a LOT of reasons to worry about radical feminists taking my lady balls, frankly. A lot.
I'm not dealing with this wiskey dick shit, 2016 is the year of hard dicks
As for the other mouse...I don't have any mouse traps so I put a Jell-O shot on the ground. Party hard little dude.
Randomize
