I cut my penus on the lid.
i find it sad that i can no longer sit in the back of class for fear that someone will fart into the heater again.
i have a $600 bill for my ER visit in which they did nothing but suggest to me that i am an alcoholic.
i am breaking up with you. because you wash your hair too much and you only drink light beer and because you're not party enough.
He was pretty out of it. He heard crickets outside, and thought it was the laptop. So he put his ear to it, rubbed the keyboard, and said "tell me your secrets."
On the brightside though, I found the motivation to clean my shower, it was right underneath my need to masturbate in said shower.
Found her. Shes unconscious up against the room door. Her credit card is in the keycard slot
I'm eating my emotions. I am no longer interested in anybody other than my own hand and vagina.
If I get to the point of singing Man of Constant Sorrow then please god let me do it, record it, then cut me off.
Almost to my house to grab beer. And pants.
I forgot drug dealers have families, too. Cheers to a sober, uncomfortable, slightly enraging Thanksgiving.
I'm a hopeless romantic with the sex drive of a married politician. IM DOOMED.
Let's take a shot for every time we've said "I don't want to get that drunk tonight"
I feel so accomplished. I've cleaned my room, done laundry, called those places, gotten jobs, and masturbated.
I'm so proud of you.
I'm too depressed to drink my wine. That is what I would call a serious problem
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