the ***** family is living proof that there are no more lifeguards in the humen gene pool
I'm in the dining hall. that same guy is here again, the one who sits alone and talks to his silverware.
Your ass just called me, someone was yelling "awful waffle" and also, " I don't know who's hands are who's anymore"
I bruised my spine.. Jungle gyms were clearly not meant for sex.
my coworker just texted me asking if i remember pissing in the mop bucket at the gas station
I hope you don't have to start the day explaining to me how you failed to turn "Can I practice my belly dancing in your apartment" into all night sex.
Jello bowls to the fucking face, that or ramen spiked with liq. Those are the only options in this house.
I thought she was being abused so tried to go in at the sympathy angle, but the bruises were from pole dancing. I went in at all angles.
I knew us throwing ourselves at him back in the day would pay off. I'm gonna b a divorcees rebound. Score!
he said he was going grocery shopping but when he came back all he had was a jumbo bag of pancake mix and case of beer.
the essentials, lol
Wall of shame with a backpack full of beer bottles, cowboy hat in hand, and a handlebar mustache. I was applauded by a passing car
I'm gonna be the best dressed mother fucker to ever get kicked out of that damn bar.
Then, he ate me out while I watched Bo Burnham. Best. Night. Ever.
Last thing I remember I was riding on a picnic table being hauled around by a lawn mower with an empty case of bud light on my head...
Nobody on Tinder wants to give you a Blumpkin.
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