If she catches me sniffing the seat of her office chair again, she's either going to fire me or fuck me
I don't remember her name, but I do remember yelling at her from the balcony of the hotel room during her walk of shame.
I wouldn't necessarily call it an addiction, more of a passion. I'm habitually passionate.
I just febrezed the jizz on my pants and wore them again, gross or eco-friendly?
Eco-friendly.
he told me that my best friend was "one the most attractive people he's ever seen" and wondered why he didn't get a blow job
The entire time I'm blowing him she's in the back seat lecturing me on the reasons why you're not suppose to do that while they're driving...
marshmallow pipe was a success. so was melon pipe. come try it
we've coined the Sunday morning ritual of taking out our puke-filled trash cans as The Trash Of Shame
Priorities: waking up on your doorstep desperately clutching half a meatball marinara but with no sign of your keys, purse or housemate. Where are you?!
Can I just put my face in your boobs and forget the world?
It's my vagina- remember its magical and yes I just did mini spirit fingers
Also one of my neighbors is blasting "pumped up kicks" and possibly butchering some chickens
You merely adopted the alcohol. I was born into it. Molded by it. I didn't see the hang over until I was a man and by then it was only blinding.
I should stop using "Braveheart would do it" as a basis for decision making...
I'm like a sensual ninja. You turn your head for a second and.... BOOM I'm naked. It's like a naughty magic trick.
Randomize
