after he passed out we removed everything electronic from his room, stuck in some old books and an ancient typewriter from goodwill. for 20 min. we had him convinced he'd drunk himself backward in time.
I have left a significant number of teethmarks in my prhone. My mouth tastes like tequila and cheddar. Tomorrow already feels fun.
in the middle of it he kept shouting: im going to be masturbating to this for the rest of my life
I think any school that has COCKS written on it's baseball hats has their priorities straight.
her bridesmaids come in huge, huger, wtf, and free willy. all their gown are strapless. its like watching the Hindenburg waddle down the isle.
Can you check your dirty laundry bag for my tooth.
someone needs to get her out of the garbage can shes never gonna forgive us for this
He said I was trying to make the bouncer dance with me AS he was throwing me out
This was just another one of those days you wished you had a penis-size indicator instead of wasting your time isn't it?
He was trying to hotbox the banana suit. Of course we traded him for vodka.
somehow he and i always have our deepest conversations after phone sex.
I told you all we needed steroids to survive the tour de franzia, like the bikers. But nobody listened...
Don't tell him that you hope he dies in a boring missionary position with his wife. That doesn't go over well.
The logic in me says "don't text him" .But the vagina in me says "text him".
Have you considered murder?
Other than my credit score and this bowl of oatmeal, not really. It's very messy
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