Fuck u you updated twitter but didn't answer my text
I know you're alive
you never know when you'll meet the man of your dreams and bang him in an elevator
eating taco bell the same day as formal = probably a bad idea
All of my current injuries can be related back to sex.
oh and if she happens to say anything about a cantalope and tissues... just go with it
It's my diet secret . . . it's like slimfast but I call it cockfast instead.
She asked if you knew her boyfriend, and you responded that you "think you gave him head once" and then hiccupped.
This dude has my number from April last year. Drunk me left sober me a puzzle. No confirmation of pants off business
Get up, biotch, before I come traipsing in there to rip apart whatever god-forsaken spoon you have going on between the two of you and your dog.
They invented a new game at work. Its called guess if I'm baked, hungover, drunk, or some combination of the three. Its surprisingly very difficult..
I will expect an hourly check text to confirm you are alive and that you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere with a hobo dry humping your corpse
I fuckin love you!
I would reciprocate the feeling if i knew who this was.
All I remember thinking is, why the fuck are there martians on the ceiling? And they were riding fruit. Like strawberries and shit.
In the words of Disney’s Jafar, “desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Getting knocked up by someone with a good job and a big dick, okay. I can handle that. Getting knocked up by someone who sells dildos for a living and has a tiny dick, SOMEBODY is losing a pair of balls.
Randomize
