When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking.
my mom walked in on me smoking weed alone, listening to the eagles, and just staring at the river. she totally knew.
I still can't believe I found a dildo in my ceiling today.
They were like stripper heels, except business stripper heels, the kind strippers would wear to court.
Those motion detector trash cans don't work fast enough to catch puke.
They had half off shots during the fourth quarter. I was powerless.
Our kitchen sink faucet is leaking, so I set a pitcher under it to catch water for Kool-Aid tomorrow rather than turn on the faucet. The environment owes me.
I HAVE to find her. I've got a pretty decent pic of her footprint on my headboard. Wonder if I can get one of the podiatry majors to help?
I might have snap chatted him. So here's what I need you to do. Find him. Abduct him. Get his phone. View the chat so he can't. Then, buy him ice cream. He deserves ice cream.
I disagree, if your last name is Weiner then the sending of dick pics should be mandatory. I'd give him a pass.
My mom comes home from her weekend with her lesbian co-workers and asks "You wanna know how I got these bruises?" I've never been more torn about anything EVER.
We should. Taco Bell definitely gives me the shits though.
It's girls night. No shame, just febreeze
Some guy is in my phone as Pat McAwesome.
I traded some nice guy at the bar ten bucks and a pack of cigarettes for his leather jacket. I'm pretty sure I win at life. Whoever is in my phone as Tyler Durden, I thank you.
After 8 hours of circus trick sex, his parents are both hugging me and kissing me on the cheek asking when I'm coming back over. Score?
Randomize
