I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
And for 6 straight hours, I laid on my bedroom floor trying to convince myself it would perfectly acceptable to pee on my own floor
i normally make it a rule to leave when white people start rapping... but they had blow.
You guys crashed sarahs vespa into a snowbank and its still there. not cool.
Exactly. Because my vagina can't be consoled with words. It requires a thicker form of communication
Nothing screams fatass like a pizza that doesn't fit in your car
Any residual attraction has just been ruthlessly murdered by that mustache.
If you get that boat I will recruit some boat hoes for you and tape a video and sync it to I'm On A Boat. This is happening.
He danced with some other girls and you started yelling "I can't believe I wasted half my Chili's gift card on you" at him
this makes me concerned. not enough to actually do anything about it, but yeah.
I don't need no damn man when I have the cock-a-nator 2000.
I wish I was there so i could bitch slap his incredibly sexy face
On a scale of 1 to i should hide, how deep did i dig my grave?
You tried to chase every shot with a blueberry.
Remember, today is also the anniversary of Harambe's death. D**** out.
Randomize
