I am puke
I then asked the hardee's employee: mam, do you mind if i pay 75 cents in cash and then put the 1.13 on my debit card.
Is it wrong to want to cut a hole in the Tigger suit so I can molest you while I wear it?
i should write a book entitled 'the joys of being sexually objectified'
You called me twice to tell me that you spit in your own eye, when I was right next to you.
jess passed out on the pong table. it was depressing until we started singing shania twain an hour later and heard her muffled voice singing along.
And by the way, how is me getting head even remotely comparable to you fucking 3 guys?
we had you propped up in a chair and fed you donuts. i've never seen you happier
tell that swedish kid i didnt take his shotgun. he GAVE it to me.
he ruins everything I try to do including his roommates
all i remember is being at the diner with her at 3am and her storming into the kitchen to make sure the chef gave me regular fries instead of home fries.
Some dude just came up to me and stroked my beard, smiled and left. Shave?
...oh my god that's like anal suicide
I'm aware. I'm writing the eulogy for my colon as we speak.
Life Goals: never under any circumstances, pee in an elevator again. No matter how drunk
I made a separate snapchat account so I could swap nudes with a guy from omegle.
Why do all of your bad decisions sound like fucked up mad libs?
Randomize
