I think I died a long time ago.
I'm not sure how exactly, but this funeral has turned into a ridiculous night of drinking games
so the last visual we have of him for the next 87 weeks is him outside on the ground rolling around yelling I HATE BLOWJOBS
Help. All alone. Room is. Changing colors. Dance party 2010, but without dancing.
I don't care what he thinks. My vagina has an open door policy.
then she kicked a hole in her own door and the next thing you know, brian's walking up to her room with power tools. in no condition to use them
Emergency! LinkedIn connected me to a hotornot hookup from sophomore year... slutty phase sphere has officially invaded grown up professional sphere. My illusions of interweb sexual anonymity have been exploded.
The president of the frat said he was honored to award me "Best Overall Blow Jobs", free admission to all their future parties, and a $20 gift certificate to Denny's. I'm not sure if I feel proud or if that's just the burrito coming back up...
Also, what are the symptoms of syphilis?
You kept trying to use my cat as a napkin.
How the fuck does a person bruise an armpit? I swear to god, I get the lamest drunk injuries.
I had wine for breakfast at 6am, that's how visiting my parents went.
My butthole probably tastes like a Cinnabon right now
i can do like, 15 pushups. 20 if i listen to dubstep.
Are you opposed to me trying out your penis?
If he has a beard, chances are, that’s an open invitation to sit on his face
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