I think the phrase "bag of smashed assholes" describes it best
My boogers are black from last night. So that's either from all the colored hairspray or inhaling all of the tragedy from the party...
like we started out all organized and composed and within thirty mins people were throwing up in the bushes, arguing over a beer bong and jumping in the pool with their clothes on
id pay someone 5 dollars to tell me whos house im at right now. comfy couch though
Then we all started singing, "Our house, in the middle of the street. Our house, fucks a lot of freshman meat". It was magical.
I mean it's my life so what if i want to drink Molson from my sparkly shoes and not regret anything
Let's enter the circle of trust. Are we there yet? Ok. If I somehow hypothetically slept with Amandas ex husband...on a scale of one to ten...how bad is that?
They called me at 5 AM saying they had a present for me
you left the hospital looking like the grudge, your mom and I were pushing you in a wheel chair and you yelled peace out fuckers.
There is an alarming amount of urine in here.
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
Oh ya, I forgot to tell you, last night I woke up to the sound of you peeing on the floor next to the fridge, didn't remember until now. Have fun at Dayton!
Being engaged is strange. I looked at my cock this morning and said, "we did alright these last 32 years, right?"
He's been pretending to be gay for 3 months in order to get free weed.
YOu just turned down my vagina. Something must be wrong. Vegas changed you!
Randomize
