There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
When I was in the bathroom and wiped with a paper towel I found in the trashcan, I realized that this might be the reason I have a yeast infection.
I tried to show my boob for free volcano tacos at taco bell last night. Not boobs. Just boob. The manager wasn't allowing it.
My blowjobs put them in a state of relaxation similar to that of getting hit with a tranquilizer. The fear comes after the sex.
It's 3:30pm, I've been out of bed for an hour and spent most of that barfing. We're switching to beer next debate.
My life is over. I farted in open court. Noticeably. The judge looked at me. It echoed.
Lets think Pancakes and sausages into existence
Lol. I get my husbands paycheck every week. Immediate deposit into my purse next to his balls.
WHAT IF I SAT OUTSIDE AND STARTED SCREAMING THE LYRICS TO O CANADA WOULD THAT FIX IT
PLEASE DON'T
...and that's why girls with IBS don't paint their nails
If I die it's either cuz I undercooked my burger or because I used questionable cheese. I have no pants on, so if there's a wellness check, you go in first.
In other news, Justin Bieber has a big dick and that makes me uncomfortable.
well we woke up in different beds than the ones we originally fell asleep in, you were butt naked, and your boyfriend was sleeping on a cot in the middle of the kitchen. that might be why he's mad.
my mom asked me why i was covered in scratches, blood, and dirt this morning..i answered "i was planking obviously" and walked away
reminiscing on last night: why the fuck did I feel the need to stand on chairs everytime we took a jello shot?
Randomize
