Let's have a moment of silence for the guinea pig that drunk chick threw out our window.
Me and my vagina aren't speaking at the moment.
It's like split custody, only he's not a kid and they have sex with him.
I was tripping so hard I was disappointed when I pulled back the shower curtain and shrek wasn't standing there
apparently the last bar didn't like my halloween costume with syringes filled with whiskey
I'm drinking straight vodka and railing lines of adderall while writing a paper about the nature of Jesus. It's 6:50 in the morning. College.
Mehhh. I just tried to type 'extremely', and it auto corrected to 'creek rot'. IT KNOWS WHAT I LOOK LIKE
Literally just one second of unclenched butt hole away from shitting my pants.
Of the past 48 hours, 46 of them have been spent naked. I'd say it's been a good two days.
He ripped my sink off my bathroom wall and then threw up in it.
Like I don't care that he's a drug dealer, but I have a problem with his inefficient and ineffective business model.
Feel weird saying this on Facebook, but a dildo collecting demigod sounds like somebody I'd at least hang with for a minute.
Do you know anyone else that comes home with unexplainable injuries as many nights a week as we do?
I mean, I already hooked up with her boyfriend. The least I can do is accept her facebook friend request.
His dick has the same name as my pipe. I'm keeping him forever.
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