Ok cool. Ill pick up liquor because, well let's be honest, we don't need an excuse anymore.
The extent of my physical activity is running from the cops.
me and my mom are sitting in the bank parking lot drying my beer soaked check with the heat... the whole car smells like heinekin and I'm trying to convince her I don't need a.a.
4pm on a Sunday....roomate fucking like a wildabeast while I have a organic chemistry study group in my kitchen.
I had to take the fire extinguisher from him. He was just sitting on the floor petting it.
I found the bottle of ketchup and sobe you tried to hide in the middle of the lawn last night
i looked at my phone & had a message that said "tell your friend she needs to clean my livingroom, i dont appreciate her trying to turn it into a bubblebath." I give you probs.
And I feel like pitchers of margaritas accidentally make it down your throat a lot.
I mean, the lady at the Mexican restaurant insisted. She said she would win a prize if she sold another pitcher before noon. And plus I got to wear a sombrero
It's official. I'm gonna fuck hot art class guy. But this won't be like hot Samsung guy. I'm gonna make sure I follow through this time.
Is it weird that the best sex I've ever had was to Barbara Streisand's Christmas album?
When you're trying to sneak from the bathroom to your room with dildo, but it glows in the dark and suddenly your entire life is illuminated in the shape of dick
Safe to say we should stock up on nipple bandaids ladies
If my life today were a movie the subtitle would be: Revenge of the Beer Shits
Also I feel like death. But like. In a good way
for future reference, singing eye of the tiger outside my door while i am having sex makes me incredibly uncomfortable
apparently not uncomfortable enough for you to stop
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