So not only just find my adoption papers that I didnt know about in my parents house, but they say "child shows some signs of mental retardation".
I just saw a Kleenex commercial and thought about last night. I'm sorry about your hair.
How long is it safe to eat only Hot Pockets and Popsicles?
He passed out on the floor and you kept hitting him in the dick and screaming "hammer of justice".
Tequila bombs in champagne seemed like a good idea at the time.
I told the hostess, two bouncers and a manager i was roofied and made them smell my beer. Turns out I just picked up some stupid bitches CHERRY WHEAT beer by mistake. I insisted they replace my lost beer.
There's something odd about buying beer for the first time while wearing my school sweater from kindergarten, but I don't mind.
You know what my problem is? I'm like a machine designed for the sole intention of removing the pants from damaged girls.
Oh no. Not her. Her personality clashes with mine in ways that would make me wanna beat myself with a stick.
Pretty sure I just noped a member of the Canadian women's hockey team on Tinder.
Never let me go online shopping while drunk. I now own 2 baby cribs. I have no children
I now have scissors specifically made for cutting dicks off.
Put the lady boner away. He's engaged. To my brother. No, life is not fair.
He fucked me while I was smoking his blunt. His apartment was trashed and he drives a van that looks like it’s been hit by a train but still 10/10 would fuck again.
Apparently my hair turned out really good because I got my butthole licked by a stranger last night
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