In hindsight, the torn ligament in my knee is probably the fault of the ginbucket and jager bombs starting at 3pm. I guess I'll stop blaming it on you.
You called him your tasty little crouton. Which actually wasn't the weirdest part.
He's the kind of drunk guy that would pee in your mouth while you give him head.
The rest of us are chipping in to soundproof your bedroom. This is getting ridiculous.
And on the seventh day, God carefully sculpted your cock to fit perfectly into my masterpiece of a vagina. Then he rested. Look it up.
I just stood next to my childhood self. Fuck, I'm really stoned...
i just keep picturing us drunk surrounded by kittens.
Well I never thought in the future I'd be able to say "hey remember that Easter I made porn?"
When confronted with a choice of going home or fucking the band ALWAYS FUCK THE BAND!!
I don't want my liquor store dad to judge me...
I am harder than a fucking diamond and Michael Bolton is playing. Your move.
She flashed us last time and pissed all over the floor this time. I'm scared to invite her back.
No we didn't fuck. He picked me up I asked where we were going and he said "I don't know if you've ever heard of a little place called Denny's?" He was completely serious. I told him to stop the car and I got out and called Jack.
The last time I saw you, you were giving the stripper a lap dance.
YOU ATE THE FUCKING GOLDFISH!?
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