walking home from your place the other day I saw a man with a ponytail sitting on some church steps petting a plant
he should get drunk with us
He looked at me like he has never had a girl throw up on him before.
Instead of centeral air we are getting a margaritaville machine. Thought you would enjoy our logic
he kept doing his monologue, "if a vagina could talk."
Make sure to show her the sewer we were arrested in on your tour.
I think there was chlamydia in those woods.
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
I just commented on the education level of his penis.
All three shower stalls were filled with couples fucking and then someone yelled "switch" and... We switched
My drug dealer just made me weigh out my own weed because he was in the middle of taking his law enforcement final
I think Facebook knows you fucked me. All of a sudden I get everything you do in my news feed.
I woke up with a dick pic from the ex-Mormon via email. Not really what I wanted to see before my first cup of coffee this morning, but I gotta say, I'm impressed.
A toast to whoever set this year's daylight savings fallback to the day after halloween, granting us another hour to detox before we pretend to be functional adults. Clearly, a partier with forethought and clear priorities. Cheers!
The thing about pooping in the woods during hunting season is you never know if someone's watching you.
Nxt time we drink that much, we'll have to hide the crayons. Crayola-ing a mural on the living room wall wasnt the brightest idea, but it sure is classy. Right?
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