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.
WHO ATE OUR COOKIES WHAT THE FUCK THOSE WERE GOURMET
I think I'd rather ejaculate tabasco. You'd have to scrape out guacamole.
I don't see why you're so upset, it's not like you were wearing pants either.
Its so hard looking at my mom and pretending I'm not dying a slow death of binge drinking
He went around feeding all the high kids pretzels. He's like their god now
there's a photo set of like seven dicks covered in glitter....i don't know what to do
As a gentleman, I asked her if she was sure and she just whispered "wreck me" in my ear. I took that as a green light.
you smell like cheap hookers & chicken nuggets.
I just realized now that you're pregnant we can't use alcohol as currency
Woke up to the frozen soundtrack blasting in the living room best one night stand ever
I also woke up in a guys bed in a Reptar shirt yesterday morning staring at a movie theater sized poster of the not as popular Air Bud franchise movie Super Buddies.
Next guy I fuck must be a cowboy
you were making out with a girl because you told her you were part of Nsync
Would the comment "Down Goes Frasier" be too inappropriate at this time?
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