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.
god please explain to me why there's blood underneath my fingernails AND toenails?!?!
Dude To be completely honest I don't think you want me to.
I would like to remind you that Mike's hard lemonade only goes good with an extra light cigarette and seminal fluid.
I never thought that I'd ever use the phrase "and the resulting ice cream explosion" seriously at work...
the guy next to me needed a pen, so I let him take one from my book bag. my panties are now being passed around the class...thank you for telling me you hid them in my bookbag.
She has puke on the back of her shirt not quite sure how the hell she did that
If we can only get laid once in a blue moon, apparently this will be our month.
I woke up on a navy base in a different time zone. I'm never leaving tallahassee again.
To be honest I've become too lazy for the work involved in getting laid.
You run marathons and you're too lazy for sex? Priorities, man.
Touche.
Also. After puking outside of the bar last night, some guy (who saw me puking) said I looked like Jennifer Lawrence, called me J Law, got my number and is now texting me. Who knew puking and rallying would do me any good
Wow. Memory lane. What a horrendously unsightly jizz stain on the tapestry of life.
Suffice to say, I think if people ask about your bruises, and you look them right in the eye, and say "they're from fucking...", people would be like, "respect."
he threw an umbrella that he ripped out of the table at the fence like he was harpooning a whale while the owner of the bar was outside then tried to blame it on an old man...
I just walked by a dude at the gym covering himself in olive oil.
I woke up alone, naked in her bed staring at a lifesize poster of edward cullen,actually I'm lying I did have socks on
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