There was a fist fight in my basement last night at four in the morning, in case you were wondering
Nah, lets use your guy, my drug dealer is going all pineapple express on me
We hadn't had sex in so long that I started queefing and then I couldn't stop giggling... I think he's mad.
Im in mikes bed telling my vagina I'm sorry in advance.
When I picked you up, you were drinking Maker's Mark out of the bottle with a crazy straw.
I think I was the only one who knew you were acting like you weren't drunk in public issues discussion this morning. Make sure you thank me in your Academy Award Speech someday.
I fell into his fridge. I want to leave.
I need to get a job that holds me accountable for something. Otherwise I wake upon Monday wondering when the booze store opens and if I still have a boyfriend.
If there was a build-a-penis, I would build that penis.
I woke up in a toga after going to a Hawaiian party. I don't even know.
Only you could successfully troll for dick at a Hillel bake sale.
Of course he's seen my tits, I wave those things around like a trump supporter does an American flag
All I remember is pissing by the garage and the next thing I know I'm on fire
I know right. I don't even want to have sex today. I did anyway but that's besides the point.
You were painting for six hours and managed one four foot wall. "The Mellow Handyman" isn't a good business model.
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