I have a fruit stripe tattoo on my penis. You're the only person I know who chews that gum.
It doesn't count as drinking alone if you're making rum cake with it.
Wednesday. Otherwise known, to you at least, as "there are two gay men in my bed" day.
It must be illegal for me to be this drunk in front of this many children
There's a guy in here whose face looks like it would be perfect between my legs.
New low: falling asleep with my face in the toilet only to be awoken when my hand slid down and touched the water. It's moments like these I wish I could forget.
That's the saddest description of touching yourself I've heard since someone said "I was just lazily rubbing my clitoris while eating Cheetos alone"
Secondly, that waffle is lost for good. I have no fucking idea where that bitch is
She looks like she smells of sausage, sunblock and sorrow.
But the guy you're fucking should not be within ten pounds of your weight when you're five fucking feet tall and he's 6'2". That's all I'm saying.
When you and Blake get an apartment I want you to buy this Costco couch I'm currently passing out on.
Last time we had an ultimatum like that, things went very far south. I'm down, but it's your turn to wake up in a hospital.
So, I had a dream last night that involved you as an actual cloaked Captain America and a lot of weird sex, and I didn't hate it.
I am descending into that finals week rage fueled by ramen, mountain dew and bad sex is what's up.
I'll tell you that it involved a pair of pliers and a trip to the ER.
I demand a full explanation right now.
Randomize
