he smells like the inside of heather mills' fake leg
I just did the scooter of shame. New levels of embarrassment have now opened.
Why is there a living, breathing cow on your front porch?
I wish there was a lawn mower version of Roomba so I could just drink and cheer it on from the stoop.
I have an excuse to be a whore in Mexico. I'm conducting an experiment to see if small dicks are caused by the poor drinking water.
You missed practice last night. You owe at least 8 hours of liver sprints.
Apparently it's poor taste to ask for a break up blow job...in McDonald's. Also, that's not the best way to break the news either.
This morning I learned I traded my sunglasses for a Big Lebowski sticker at the football game.
How do I know I'm high? Let me count the ways.
1. I put the milk in the cupboard, 2. Everything tastes fucking amazing, 3. My dog is really soft, 4. The lunesta butterfly flew out of my tv and touched me
Fucken Tweens. They smelled like cotton candy and hand jobs my nostrils were offended.
you didn't want to pay for the shots so you negotiated with the bartenders. Apparently 1 shot is worth 5 seconds of motor-boating you.
She came out of my bathroom wearing nothing but high top Converse, a leather jacket and a tongue stud. I love rock bars.
My heart wants him and my vagina wants him...to have a bigger dick.
His girlfriend left him for the pizza guy. I am not fucking kidding.
I feel like I shouldn't be encouraging my friends to hook up with their teachers.....but if it's for academic reasons....then I definitely encourage it.
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