I am like the Mr. Miyagi of queefs.
I can't tell whether I'm throwing up blood or licorice.
since we're both too lazy to go to each others house, you drink there, i'll drink here and we'll skype. it's the same thing.
he emptied an entire bag of goldfish onto the bed and rolled around yelling the theme to jaws trying to eat them
she moved to the other side of town, do you realize how far i gotta walk to get a blow job???
just ran into my gynecologist at the liquor store... i think she's found the source of my problems
Boobs are also good for catching the vodka gummy bears that miss my mouth
I wish your snatch was here
If my snatch could sprout wings I'd fly to you
For the record, it's NEVER ok to discuss my stripper-related injuries with my fiance.
I feel like my life just hangs in the balance of "Yeah I'm probably not doing this right"
I told her we had to stay at the bar until at least midnight because that's when my direct deposit hit, don't tell me i'm not responsible
The fact our science teacher from high school was buying us drinks and hitting on me doesn't matter.
I traded some nice guy at the bar ten bucks and a pack of cigarettes for his leather jacket. I'm pretty sure I win at life. Whoever is in my phone as Tyler Durden, I thank you.
You told me not to tell you found out you're pregnant..
Just remembered someone sprayed perfume in my mouth last night after convincing me it was vodka and that i tried to herd ducks around campus and bring one home.
Randomize
