I'm sorry for everything. i woke up with two citations stapled to my shirt.
I'm towing my little brother down the road on a sixty year old tractor, we're taking up the whole highway, and no one cares. I love South Dakota.
You litterally reached into some girls shirt, pulled out her tit and yelled whats up with this guy.
I DON'T CARE WHAT THE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE NEVER VOMIT IN MY PURSE AGAIN.
Just a heads up, the coffee pot is filled with Jager.
He is eating chips off the floor in the emergency room..
Meghan got a job at the bar. We're now morally obligated to drink. Is this what dreams are made of?
is it sad that i can honestly say it was the best birthday sex i've ever had and it was still terrible?
i have two emotions: emotionless and blind with rage
On duty sugar tits. A Marine never abandons his post to take nudi pics.
Any residual attraction has just been ruthlessly murdered by that mustache.
I believe in weed hangovers. To say the least.
His penis looked like how I would imagine Satan's pinky finger.
He's at Disney with 4 kids and I'm drinking wine from the bottle in bed at 2:45pm. Does it sound like we're compatible??
Just let me put on a bra and brush the alcohol out of my hair.
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