and after you realized your puke was bright blue, you started crying hysterically and screaming, "I DON'T WANT TO BE A SMURF!" no more uv blue for you.
The guy drove to our house at 6am to sell us weed. Now that's customer service.
Boys can't fool me. I know "want to come up and meet my dogs?" is just a nondirect way of saying "come up and meet my penis".
Why does it always end up with me crying in my car.
I think I was using my hair to catch my vomit last night.
You were.
The real reason I can't work: it's Tuesday. I get stoned and watch Buck Rodgers on Tuesday.
Using a miniature baseball bat to kill a mosquito in the house may not have been the most efficient or safest way, but that thing is fucking dead. However, so are three wine glasses, a lamp, and my baseball bat privileges. Worth it.
But in today's society it's frowned upon not to wear pants in public.
My ladyscape is the envy of many and the shangrila of few. I will display it proudly.
So, I without a doubt haven't used the bag I'm now carrying since we were dating. Just had to discreetly throw out an unopened magnum in a bus station.
I'm scared because his knowledge of star trek is turning me on
It was fine. Until I accidentally shit on his floor.
2:34, make a wish! I wish I wasn't on acid at Planned Parenthood. What's yours?
What the hell kind of sad excuse for a bottom are you
Come over I need help. I just almost died in an acid flashback while listening to do You Feel Like We Do off of the Frampton Comes Alive album.
I feel like I got hit by a car. But a small car, like a Beetle or a Mini or something.
Randomize
