There was a fist fight in my basement last night at four in the morning, in case you were wondering
I am like the Mr. Miyagi of queefs.
2 v-cards in one night. impossible is nothing.
I'm buying a pregnancy test with my lunch money. Classy.
we cant have a funnel and a dog. thats a lot of responsibility
They were fighting, but then they bumped into the bong and it shattered. After that they just hugged and cried.
then he tried to tell me how many times he had seen Scott's dick. his estimate was about 180 times. he thought I didn't understand.
he's drinking beer at home in his underwear tonight and if you want to come over the dresscode is underwear only. And you have to bring beer.
He slow fucked me. Doggy style. On a porch. You never slow fuck doggy style. Its a law. A LAW.
Things i learned at work today: do not put mayonaise on a tattoo, it will get infected.
Just remember my house smells of thick cut bacon and I have a big dick.
Just had an epiphany about how to drink more effectively in the shower. While walking across campus carrying a Franzia bag like Santa
If you think I'm not petty enough to drive to your house at 3 in the goddamn morning just to punch you, you underestimate me.
I'm too pretty to be this sexually frustrated.
low point of the night : a cop just busted out laughing at me.
Randomize