I'm tuning in to watch Heidi Montag crash and burn on the Miss Universe Pageant. Somebody call 911. and I'm not talking about the Sean Kingston song.
bubblegum was invented today. we're getting drunk. end of story.
So I'm at planned parenthood and there are 5 people here from Friday's party.
When you get home we need to compare our schedules and set up masturbation slots. I'm scares of you walking in on me. Again.
We are lost. Everyone is drunk and it all went downhill after we iced the bus driver.
I can't wait. Forget the royal wedding. This is the most anticipated hookup of 2011.
You really need to get over the whole "jail" thing. Its really not that bad.
No, I did not fuck him for football tickets. I fucked him for tickets to the superbowl. I'm not that much of a slut.
I am still STD free so as far as I am concerned I never went to panama.
You looked up at me and said "I'm getting a mattress made out of this SHIT. Goodbye certa hellllllllo concrete!" then you started counting sheep
That boy needs some memories to take back home with him
I'm beginning to think that women just have dogs at home as an excuse to leave ASAP after hooking up, without sounding like a typical guy.
Welcome to Missouri, the show me your genitals state.
So pro tip. do not order drugs from india and then assume you know your tolerance level.
You're never gonna guess who's blood is on my shirt
Why do I feel like I really don't want to hear the end of this...
Randomize
