If there's ever a time when I've matured to the point that I don't want to look at camera-phone-titties, go ahead and bury me in a shallow grave by the railroad tracks.
Dudes got a Polo tattoo. I don't care if he has a yacht I can't handle that level of gay.
You love him. Dinosaurs. Math. Sex.
Yea, you were talking about how you did not want to be a reindeer for at least 5 minutes.
She actually was beyond drunk but she for some reason kept calling herself a demigod and made me drive her to a bookstore
maybe her throwing up on me was a foreshadowing of how she would later metaphorically throw up on my life
I want you to read this conversation tomorrow and be proud of the fact that you taught me how to decipher any drunk message. Good job.
There still is not and there never will be anything as magical as getting high while listening to William Shatner's version of Bohemian Rhapsody.
Holy shit, I just successfully took and sent a boob pic AT MY DESK I have conquered an entire new level of skill.
The cop that got shot in the dick is here, let the entertainment begin.
It's been awhile, you pregnant yet?
Side note: I just realized that I can make my hand warmers double as a heated push up bra.
I'm in the smoking section between a transvestite molly dealer and a group of juggalos. I shouldn't be that hard to find.
Congrats on dating a convict, there's no fitbit badge for that one.
sex on a trampoline, in the rain, on ecstasy, just thought you should know.
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