every time i drive by the road she lives on, i scream in the car "i'm sorry i'm sleeping with your boyfriend!" makes me feel less whore-y.
My phone auto-corrects smirnoff to poisoned. I think it is trying to tell me something.
Where else am I to apply my creativity?
I don't know. Anywhere productive and not involving sex toys would be a start.
We need to either drink and not go to waffle house or go to waffle house and not drink. I need to know which is causing these shits.
the teacher just ate a hash brownie and passed out on the bus best field trip 2010'
You are the worst substitute drug dealer ever
I just canoed to the bar. I am a skilled drunk paddler.
I can't tell if they're having sex or watching the beach scene from Saving Private Ryan. All I know is I hear explosions and men screaming and crying
Let me tell you the story of bicurious george
I could be busy drinking my face off and getting red white and bruised per usual
Lack of response to this text gains you a half hour of freedom before I initiate operations to conclude you are not, in fact, comatose. You requested no mercy.
He was like low grade Riff Raff, but I hit it. Twice. His grill popped out the second time.
I just googled "creative ways to tell someone you'll give them a blow job". I'm losing my touch.
Pooled our money and rented a bouncy castle for the day. Get over here now. Bring vodka.
Who the fresh hell put 2 pillows a raincoat and a guitar on top of me to keep me warm last night
Randomize
