Nope, Im Irish and pissed with some drunk mixed in...therefore punching things is the best solution to every problem.
She wanted to fuck you. You threw up on her. Congrats.
I'm pretty sure there is a country song about this exact situation
The guy in front of me in Sociology is definitely working on my farm in farmville. Never met him before. Do I thank him?
I woke up naked in my own vomit. Not even in my bed. No one is happy.
Karaoke into a bottle of boones. dear summer in alabama, glad to see you again.
I made popcorn. Partly so the room doesn't smell like sex, and partly to apologize for the things you saw when you walked in...
Tried to eat a sandwich this morning. Couldn't. My jaw is locked up. These marathon blow jobs are killing me
listening to happy ending by mika while imagining him to run after me at an aiport in slow motion... also, dipping oreos in baileys. not taking this breakup well. at. all.
I'm all about sex. But even I know there will be a time to retire my junk. And that will be my 40th birthday, or whenever I'm hideous
I was taking a bath while he walked in, sat down on the toilet, and said "its like a baby, I can see it crowning."
Was my mother there when I broke the stipper pole?
Never in my life did I dream that I would meet and NFL linesman, let alone that he would be standing before me dressed as a Roman centurion and asking for Vaseline.
He told me he would make me come so hard I would throw up. I'm actually horrified that he thinks that's something any person would want
In honor of Randy Savage we're wearing spandex and handing out slim jim's with option to suplex. Get behind it
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