Nope, Im Irish and pissed with some drunk mixed in...therefore punching things is the best solution to every problem.
Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
She wants her shit back. Clearly she missed the cheaters-get-their-shit-ritually-burned clause.
Being college poor has reached a new low. I am giving up on masturbating so i can save money on toilet paper
we were on a sandy mattress. i was wearing a sweatshirt with a poodle on it and eating a whopper jr. i wouldn't have fucked me either.
The only word I understood in that whole setence was semen.
Apperanlty I was screaming "It's hard to swim with a broken ankle sir" and then tackled the lifeguard. The joys of blackouts
I remember just enough about last night to wish I didn't remember anything.
It was more like a tour de entire bottle of wine in 14 minutes
Honestly and this might sound scary... But I want to get high and play with weapons
With a butt like mine I'll never have to pay for Netflix again.
Go makeout with Mickey Mouse so we can get FastPass tickets
Was the picture of her twerking on a fake plant sufficient?
So last night, I bought mother's day cards and the Plan B pill.
You proposed a left ass cheek firmness contest and got a surprising number of contestants. Then you ruined it by groping someone who wasn't playing and awarding them first place.
Randomize
