So some guy at the party is convinced I'm Edward Cullen. He keeps calling me "Twilight" and following me around with a stake. I'm concerned.
Was finally able to jerk off without the motion giving me a migraine. Think my hangover's getting better.
But I always wanted my obit to read "Died violently in casino orgy," not "Never woke up from rectal surgery."
She said my main job as maid of honor is to ensure the groom doesn't find out that each of his seven groomsmen has had his penis inside her.
Im going home to examine my vagina with a hand mirror. wish me luck.
I'll pull you in a wagon. You'll have a sash and a crown on and we'll sing "All the Single Ladies"
Only once have I found myself in the condom aisle holding a bundt cake...
Since you're going to wake up and see one bajillion missed calls from me, I just want you to know that's a perfectly reasonable number. Now come downystairs.
At this point, just throw that mattresses away. Or bronze it and display it as a testament to your shame. either is good.
Oooo. Can we pretend to be Amanda Bynes?
She bought wigs like Disney princesses. I want to be her.
this whole "benign brain tumor" is truly a blessing in disguise. I almost want to start bringing MRIs to the bar because sympathy pussy is flowing like the nile
Tomorrow I need you to slap me in the face. I'll explain then
My walk of shame wasn't complete until I projectile vomited clutching my truck bumper while he just smiled with that look of regret.
Well, if I’m not getting dick or sleep then I’m not interested.
The report specifies "melted cheese food" as the cause of the burns. Your pride, like your cock, isn't getting out of this without heavy damage.
Randomize
