I miss Bob Barker.
Yeah, more like Douche Carey...
he was chasing shots of soco with fistfuls of my birthday cake
Before he took my jeans off all he said was "no hard feelings from middle school right?"
We raised our shot glasses and you screamed out "TO MY DAD FINALLY GOING TO REHAB!"
You're gonna die alone anyway. Even if you do meet a man, they die earlier than women. Best case, you have to deal with grieving over his death and then die alone a couple years later. Worst case, you get a terminal illness and he divorces you, leaving you to die alone anyway.
Thanks, mom.
His IQ is so high, I swear I started ovulating when he told me the number.
Last time I went to flagstaff I threw up in my beard. I would very much like to recreate that moment.
We're doing it in the traditional way of discussing why we dislike each other while sharing a bowl. Just like the natives do.
You're telling me you've never sent a picture of your cock to a girl and then were all like "Oops, sorry, wrong person! By the way...You like?"
ARE YOU SAYING THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO GO TO A PARTY AT AN ADULT STORE WHERE A BUNCH OF HOT GIRLS ARE DRINKING
I can wear a rubber suit at three am and spank someone's ass until its sore and fuck them three ways from Sunday. And get up the next day and do their laundry. As long as once in awhile they rub my back without expecting anything
"There should be some kind of award for sleeping with your ex 9 times in 3 days."
Using the money underagers give me to buy this semesters books.. My mom would be so proud
Drunk sperm are not productive sperm.
you know my pussy doesn't know between good and evil
Randomize
