I'm sooo using this pickup line: "Baby, its not the 2.5 inches... Its the 200 pounds behind it"
if being creepy is wrong, then i don't want to be right
I feel like I'm sitting in a sleigh of puddy. It's not a bathtub though because you need a sleigh to go down a mountain.
All I did was present the dick. You did the work. That's like thanking the pencil for a test you got an A on.
Day drinking straight vodka out of a Mountain Dew can being towed behind a kayak on a raft. And no, there is no time difference, it really is 10 am.
Matt just ate a burger out of the trash can in front of the McDonalds. We need to have a serious talk about his drinking.
Is it possible to be drunk burnt? Like sun burnt but from drinking? Cus I think I that's what it feels like
He said he was a banker. Then he told me he made 15 an hour. I said he was a shitty banker then fucked his friend.
So it's official the pockets of my work apron exist solely for the purpose of secretly flipping off asshole customers and not losing my job.
I don't think I'm ever gonna need a boyfriend again. I have a body pillow, a vibrator, and I'm strong enough to open my own jars.
It's just not St. Patrick's Day until someone pukes on your panties.
You took one look at him and said "let's hope I don't remember this tomorrow" then you took another shot and chased it with a beer.. I guess it was a success.
My favorite bra is missing and I smell like beer and bad decisions. This is definitely a sign that hoe mode is activated.
color coded lube a great way to organize my bootie calls
I am way to hungover for it to be Thursday.
Randomize
