I told her I would melt her with my mustache. Needless to say, he pants were soon off.
It really wasent that hard. The male one had a M and the woman one had a W. I just couldent comprehend that at the time.
There's a vagina buried somewhere in there.
The night started going down hill when she shot the cashier in the face with the confetti gun we bought at 711.
It's a special occasion. Hence the 151.
You tried taking his shirt off at the bar. He was 37 and married with kids.
THERE IS SOMEONE IN MY CAR MILKING HERSELF AND TELLING ME TO TRY IT
So I walked in on her and she had taped her fingers together and was crying and was whispering something about "how humbling it is being in constant glove mode"
if elf comes on TV one more time i swear to god i will smash my brains out with this fruitcake
I feel like I got hit by a truck. And I vaguely remember getting into an argument with a passive aggressive Ron Burgundy in a onesie- grown man, not a baby- about the pronunciation of New Orleans
She's hot and all. It's just I don't want to become Eskimo brothers with my sister
I started crying during a meeting at work and now I'm sitting on my couch drinking boxed wine at 1:30 in the afternoon. Fuck you too estrogen.
Facebook: “Hey you fucked on a diving board, you should probably should wish him a happy birthday”
death, taxes, and me drunk texting you are 3 certainties in life
We should write a country song: “Blacked Out on a Sunday”
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