Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
You can come over, sure. But I'll be watching college hockey during the blow job.
Cookies. Watch out fir falling satellites.
I feel like passing out with my foot on your face has bonded us at a very fundamental level.
I walk in and my mom has a Christian workout program playing. It's like, gospel music with an "electronic" beat to go with it. And then they try to save your soul at the end. I hate being home.
You have talents. You got me laid two weekends in a row in two different cities.
the amount of 23-year-old guys who have seen me naked is starting to get a little worrying
I named my Roomba after my pot dealer. I have a problem, don't i?
this is honestly why we're friends. we drink tea and plan to do drugs together.
If anyone needs me I'll be in the bathtub, eating fast food and shooting straight vodka while I seriously evaluate my life choices and cry.
I should know better than to open your texts at the grocery store
I woke up with her finger in my vag. Let's just say that I'm one horny inquisitive drunk.
I woke up on the floor with 2 cartons of cigarettes, a box of chocolate bars, and a business card for a man named Larry. Don't remember him, but if the Rols on his card is his, I might throw him a mouth party...
Also Fuck you Stephen King and Fuck the horse you rode in on, making me cry In front of my coworkers.
Ive seen a birth plenty of times, pretty awesome like a bear trying to climb out of a volkswagon.
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