You are the patron saint of my drinking problem.
Condom broke. Took her to CVS for plan B and parked in expectant mothers spot. I laughed.. she cried
I left my Thanksgiving family dinner puking in my hands from the worst hangover in the world
like he couldn't stop by and throw me in the back seat and ask for a blowjob? he had to give me flowers?
She Kept going around and squirting jello shots into guys mouths. That was her ice breaker.
It felt like he was juggling my kidneys with the head of his penis... If you could even call it that, it was more like a lochness monster. Huge and mythical.
I'm hungover as hell. I'm dying. I have no skin left on my knees
I don't care. I'll text you about my butthole whenever I please. That's what you signed up for in this relationship.
I just realized the only way to play Edward forty-hands is commando in a skirt. This intelligence kick is really doing me justice.
Just come get me. Somewhere there's hobo that's going to want his dumpster back, and I kinda want to be gone when he discovers the vomit.
He is what would appear if the douche troop all had rings and we summoned someone like the Captain Planet kids.
I would have cried, probably tears of wine, but cried nonetheless.
I have invented a new game to play on campus. It's called "Mormons or Pledges?" It's fantastic.
No I don't. You owe me sex and cinnamon rolls.
I didn't think you wanted your identity stolen along with your dignity. My mistake.
Randomize
