Okay my swimming class is like the fatass/diabetic guide to losing 2 pounds by christmas
I feel like I shouldn't be doing my banking stoned. But I bought a new bowl. Her name is Sharpe. Pronounced Shar-Pay.
I have got to stop making out with redheads. I need to sign my life over to my dad like Britney Spears.
I still have beer shits from last weekend. Dying from dysentary is a real threat at this point.
Dude, just found out there's a monster in a video game named after me. No more dating nerds.
Let's go dancing. I wanna sprain an ankle. And a labia. My labia or yours. I'm not picky.
Zak is like the Picasso of masterbatory texts
Maybe I'm nitpicking, but that looked more like how one would jerk off an elephant than it did playing air guitar.
Maybe he injected his testicle?
I feel like I should acknowledge that I see you as a human and not a ragdoll sex object
And then I was like pick your blow job song and he choose the sonic the hedgehog theme song. If he's not the one no one is.
i keep smelling vagina and donuts, which pretty much sumarises this morning. happy birthday.
So many questions...the two most important are, where the fuck is my booze and how did you even get the couch through the door?
A drunk frat boy just jumped on the hood of my car while I was driving down Bridge St. He yelled at me to keep going since he was playing frogger and needed another car to jump on... or a log. I hate this town.
Now I know Sunday Funday means fucking till you loose your voice.
Randomize
