My dad just sent me a text telling me to "say hi to all the luscious bitches" at the gay bar. Guess this explains my childhood
I decided to name my penis gatorade...is it in you?
Ive had to apologize to every girl i know today because of you
okay im going to go eat, shower and find underwear... call if you want.... but ill be listenig to glee VERY loudly.
It's just a condom. Most people would commend me for saying I was going to start using them, and you're acting like I'm going to try heroin.
Great. I get laid, Leslie Nielsen dies. I can't have have sex anymore, the film community can't take another loss like this.
Based on the pics I have taken of hookups while they were passed out or sleeping, I have scientifically concluded that no two vagina lips are the same. They are like snowflakes.
I refuse to go to this wedding alone, or sober. Practice drunk-walking in heels and a Bridesmaid dress begins tonight.
I elbow dropped a bag of ice to break it so we could make margaritas. I bled everywhere. Be proud.
You probably don't remember this but last night I bought you a lap dance from a stripper that had nipples that looked like runny eggs....you're welcome.
Let's get one thing straight; we aren't in a relationship. We fuck and occasionally go to subway.
We went to IKEA super baked wearing fake mustaches. You?
A very confused plastic surgeon just called. Apparently I called asking how much it costs to get a vodka funnel installed straight to my brain...
There is a drunken, assless white chick here at this bar wearing a shirt that says "REAL WOMEN TWERK FOR JESUS". I have officially had it with our generation.
I snapchatted him 4 pictures of me as Tarzan's dad so if he never talks to me again at least we'll know why
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