So he flipped me over and suddenly went limp then told me he was thinking about his ex.
so you punched his junk, right?
so I have this game called 14 beers left. and we both have to drink 7 before we leave
It was like a secret agent hookup. No names, swift execution, get in- get out.
Actions speak louder than pants.
Walk-of-shaming home from Brooklyn in a Jesus costume that has "what wouldn't Jesus do" written on the robe.
Is it a step in the wrong direction to ask my parents for a kegerator for graduation?
I don't have any swimsuits that don't show off the weird handprint bruises on my hips. Do you have a onepiece I can borrow?
I swallowed for you. Answer the phone.
You crossed every boundary on the boundary spectrum last night. You're like the illegal immigrant of drunk actions. No more holiday drinking for you.
I'm thinking blowjobs and wheelchair sex should be part of any post-injury wellness plan.
What I do when I'm blackout drunk is none of my business.
i don't knpow whats goin on i think theyre sacrificeing me to th tequila gods
my grandpa paid for my boob job but he just doesn't know it.
PS- My flight is being emergency landed bc someone smuggled cats on the plane.
Fuck you and your fucking taquito's.
Randomize
