We saw a kid playing in poison ivy. We walked away, he'll learn his lesson.
It wasn't a wasted relationship. I got road-head in an Escalade. I still keep that with me.
We're having the conversation about what happened last night, all we can come up with is that we came home, drank two litres of lemonade, I took one of her seizure pills and we fell asleep with sabrina the teenage witch on
Shit, I may have left some acid in your bathroom last night. Has he been in there lately.
Tried to eat a sandwich this morning. Couldn't. My jaw is locked up. These marathon blow jobs are killing me
I'm lonelier than Tom Hanks in Cast Away, right meow. Ready to make this bong my Wilson.
Today's forecast: A sex tornado warning has been issued in your area. Counties affected include your bed, your shower, or your couch. This warning is in effect until further notice. Signs of a sex tornado include: your girlfriend coming up with a huge analogy to inform you that she's ungodly horny today.
Wrote my name backwards on the test and asked for extra credit points. Late start booze days are my new favorite thing.
Plus I'm on the toilet and I can only describe it as if someone had kicked the cap off of a fire hydrant.
A conundrum I think only you would understand: how to classily post "I need a ride to the liquor store" on one's Facebook wall?
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
Dude did I even see you at the bar. Cause I was for sure there then the next second apparently I was crying next to my Christmas tree because nobody believed in me.
IF THE GUY WHO I AM BORROWING OUR CAR FROM FINDS ONE CONDOM OR JIZZ STAIN IN THIS CAR HE IS GOING TO CASTRATE MY ASS. SERIOUSLY, DON'T FUCK IN THE CAR.
You are the human incarnation of a drinking problem
Did you happen to find my bra? I'm pretty sure I still had it on before we left that bar
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