Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
you're dressed like that and you're on the rag, that's false advertisment
No vaginas are yucky and I don't think you're old enough to handle one yet
frozen peaches as icecubes. vodka Sundays just got wayyyy better
OMG A WOMANS PROSTETIC ARM JUST FELL OFF AT BAGGAGE CLAIM
Escaped ambulance. Meet me at your apartment.
Bullshit. No way. If I brushed past your penis it was completely coincidental.
He is like a dragon that makes me want to spread my butt cheeks, so he can fill me with hot fire.
Don't tell me 'the Fonzie' doesn't work. Went to see Shakespeare high and gave the sign to the dude playing Macbeth. Now at a cast party getting blown. All hail the Fonz.
I accidentally told my mom "the reason I didn't answer your call is because my phone was in my pants, on the floor"
I heard the bride mutter "I should have brought a fucking tranquilizer". I'm not at all surprised that you got banned from the bar afterwards.
Yea it's also hard to turn down a man asking you out with a chicken sandwich.
I found my wallet. Still have no idea when I put mad dog in my steel water bottle, though...
The weirdest part of it all was wondering if I was going to take off his fanny pack or he was before we fucked
She shit herself again. We're calling her the "Queen of Sharts".
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