They were so loud I wrote them a sex critique and taped it to his door.
I wonder what a non-hungover friday at work is like
I sent him a pic of my tits.. All he said was, "oh your sun burn"
I am currently listening to someone take a shit. I hate the hole in the ceiling.
But he's not just anonymous male genitalia anymore. I've met him, I've seen his face.
I just want a teacup pet pig so I can take him to parties with me and never have to walk home alone again.
It's gonna be ok. As we grow older we sometimes lose sight of what's important to us. Like safe sex. And standards.
You said you couldn't look at me because you would have to take off your sunglasses but you can't because they're the "guides to your eyes".
I may or may not have puked in the ladies room. Now I get to convince my client to go to substance abuse treatment. Oh, the irony.
im not letting a little injury get in the way of my alcoholic/drug problems. we ARE getting turnt tonight.
If you hear death cries, thats me singing. Just let me be.
Does she know she is talking to people who slam shots of fireball and chase it with vodka?
There's literally not a single picture of him with a shirt on. I can't talk to him without dislocating my eye balls.
U sent me lyrics to wind beneath my wings
My liver misses your liver
Sitting across the table from one of my high school teachers who hasn't seen me since I was about 16 drinking a beer wearing a leotard
Randomize
