There are traffic cones in the living room. One of them is yours.
I mean, it really isn't YOUR car until you have sex in it.
No, he will live forever, like cockroaches and Jack Bauer.
Just had to explain my "wine me. Dine me. Sixty-nine me" key chain to my grandma...she took it surprisingly well.
dude i've broken up a marriage, I think I can handle a simple engagement.
WHATEVER CLASS IS PLAYING "TOOT IT AND BOOT IT" AT 8:30 IN THE MORNING, I WANT IN.
omg just made cake vodka jello shots, sooooo excited
dear god these taste like death. death and sprinkles
I got kicked out of the bar for suggesting that the bartender drop her tits into my Redbull instead of the usual liquor
I caught a glimpse of his penis. I can only imagine what your mom's vagina goes through because of that penis
'valentine' just autocorrected to 'cake robe' in my phone
I think that summarizes my life up pretty accurately
You know I base where I go on the likelihood of me getting laid there. This includes work.
For 15 minutes straight, he literally did every accent there was, from Russian to Bostonian. The issue: no one could determine whether he was sober, wasted, or anywhere in between
It was great. We stayed up all night talking about objects he'd put in his theoretical vagina.
My life is a random series of events connected only by bottles of Seagram's 7
when I found u, u were using a t-shirt for pants
Randomize
