the "happy anniversary" cake for my mom and dad is about to turn into the "yeah, that's a hickey, welcome back from italy" cake.
its time to go be "that drunk guy nobody knows"....again.
I'm making presurgery martini's. You need to be here.
Thanks for stopping me from letting that 14 year old feel my boobs. Thanks.
There was a dismembered bleeding penis in my dream last night. That's some serious Freudian shit.
Just doin' what I do best: sitting in a stall in the class building's bathroom, pondering life and exploring deep, dark corners of the internet before class.
I'm convinced that the Christmas lights in my room contributed to the great sex.
She asked if i could guess "what shape her carpet was". I got it wrong (christmas tree).
She was to tired for head so she opted for a footjob with poor results. I dont want to talk about it
Dropping acid was like seeing the whole world as a blank canvas to imagine anything I wanted.
And apparently all you wanted was to watch the sun explode and me take 60,000 dicks to the face.
Actually, I take that back. You can only have it if I'm allowed to French braid the mullet.
It's like the first time your mom catches you masturbating. We both know what she saw. We're just not talking about it...
He uses Bing as his search engine...but he's great in bed. So obviously I'm torn.
Public service announcement: Just bc it is Margarita Monday does NOT mean your stomach will readily accept that much alcohol. There IS a reason it isn't called Magical Monday. On that note, better luck on Tequila Tuesday.
Everyone has seen your nipples. It's like asking if they ever walked on grass. You need better hangover questions.
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