He's my palate cleanser. He's my mint sorbet. He's my saltine cracker. He's who I fuck between people to make the next one better.
I opened my door to go to class and all there was was a raccoon puking on the doorstep. In hindsight, it was a very accurate omen.
the theme of the baby shower is Nightmare On Prego Street
just to let ya know we might have to take a stripper snowboardin sometime
Come over. Drunk tacos.
That isn't even a sentence.
I kept the important parts.
The world isn't going to end because you slept with him!
... that would be easier though.
Just call Katie. She's like the drunk whisperer; she can get them to do anything.
Woke up this morning buried in a mountain of chex mix and bubble wrap. We must have been doing something great last night
Like her Facebook page isn't even hers. It belongs to her tits. It's Titsbook
I will give you the couch, a small portion of the fridge, and plenty of beer.
Got my future figured out. I'm oddly comforted. Thanks, bro.
Just for the record, you referenced Harry Potter while complaining about being torn between the Slytherin (lesbians) and Gryffindor (your mostly straight friends) houses (tables)
Unless he's under 18, in which case you put him back where you found him this instant.
How dare you not respond to me after opening up a picture of my bare breasts
His junk had piercings everywhere. The dick and balls. It was a fucking pirate penis.
So I woke up this morning to find my laptop open, with a google search for "where to buy marble", and a hungover naked northern girl in my bed who told me that I claimed to be a sculptor last night and that I promised to sculpt a bust of her hands...
Randomize