As a matter of fact my bong is named Hulkamania brother
I owe all of my success to double stuf oreos and weed.
Apparently I was the fucked up drunk guy greeting people at the hotel in the lobby last night.
Well, I'm off to go seduce a gay man. In 10 years when I'm 300 pounds, sitting in a mumu surrounded by my 500 cats, remind me of this text. That way I can be like "ohhh THERE'S where I went wrong!!"
we are blowing up condoms and making balloons and we’re drunk on the floor. You could have come to school here
I needed to do something spontaneous, and since no one had coke this was the next best thing.
It's like god made him fantastic at oral to make up for what his mouth does the rest of the time.
They didn't have a "sorry I was late for your birthday party because I was getting arrested" card.
Typing up notes at the bar and doing shots with the bartender until close on a Wednesday. This is what my second year of law school has become.
DIBS ON THE NEW GUY.
NO. NO FUCKING YOUR COWORKERS
the guy I've been trying to get with saw my brother's genitals before he saw mine, so that's my life.
Well. I hope my dad likes whatever sweater stoned me picks out.
We never leave a bad bitch behind. its a party foul..we'll find you somehow
So I figured out why that guy from Tinder stopped messaging me back. He got married.
Let's get this straight. I am six fucking feet tall. Do you even understand how limited my options in guys to date are? No. Did you see my last three boyfriends? I looked like a fucking giant next to them. So I will fuck this six-foot-seven Italian model even if I am the ugliest girl at this party because, goddammit, I deserve to.
Randomize