If I ever start a band I'm gonna name it "Nancy Reagan's Vagina"
apparently the 911 operator took drunk dialing waaayy too seriously
I picked my nose. Flicked it. I heard it hit something. Next thing I know, it's floating around in my wine glass.
We had to introduce ourselves in ethics class. This guy stood up said I'm mark, I love sluts and Jack. Then just sat back down. Hero status.
My hanfda are one with the u niverse and I am cirretnly inhaling a couch
Sometimes I look at the people in school that are obviously very diligent and on top of their studies, and then I wonder why they don't smoke weed.
I made this pact with my vagina, though. No more heartless fuckery.
I am stoned and listening to the Olympics music I downloaded on Saturday. Best 6 dollars I have ever spent.
Whiskey and an unstable home life is apparently the fountain that 20-something boys like to drink from.
official rule: if your drunk, it doesn't count
then nothing in my life counts
Would you like season tickets to my vagina?
Neither a grow-er nor a show-er. More like a no-er. If he didn't have testicles, I'm not sure you could tell he was a male, even standing there naked. There will be no second date.
He texted his hospitalized grandma while inside me, so really a perfect gentleman.
I found where he bartends and I guarantee you that in approximately nine months from this Friday, you will have a niece
I drank so much that my feet don't feel like my feet
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