I knew you were gonna be a good wingman when the words "dibs on the chunky one" came out of your mouth.
We met on a dual walk of shame. It has to be love, we can't let that go to waste. I want to tell our children that story.
They're watching TV in bed. The Golden Girls to be exact. Aaaand I just heard them singing along with the theme song. I love living with gays.
you asked the janitor if you could ride his floor cleaner.
Cops came. Forced us to take the "Honk and We'll Drink" and the "Free Shots to Father's of Freshman Daughters" signs down. Before we did, someone honked and the cop said, "Aren't you gonna drink?" They then told us to move the party inside by ten.
Last thing I remember was wondering why there was a mirror on the wall behind the urinal and then realizing I was pissing in the sink.
The car just stinks of weed and we are all sitting here trying to hide it from my mom by rolling down the windows, like it's not coming off my sisters boyfriend
He called it restless penis syndrome. I call it cheating.
I actually want to work out for some reason... I think it's my brains way of telling me it doesn't like living in a fat body.
My stripper pole led lights flash with the sound so it's awsome with music
I hate ovaries. They're horrible little sacs of satanic enmity.
That's the most poetic description of female anatomy I've ever heard.
Come get your pancakes and take a nap in my boobs.
Lo siento on account of my penis...
Here's the thing. Kinda drunk. Eating leftover soup. In bed. Watching Disney channel.
I just met his mom for the first time with a hang over. Then we went to watch his 8 year old cousin get baptized. Apparently his family loves me. I should drink more often.
Randomize
