Why don't I have your new number? And who have I been texting?
Your mouth is God's brothel.
you'll never believe how fucking awesome rain man is when you're stoned.
adderall just fell out of my nose in class. guy next to me just nodded.
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
Im blasting "Fat Bottom Girls" as loud as humanely possible in attempts that old ladies doing water aerobics will take the hint and get the fuck out of the pool.
Let's just say a refrigerator got involved and after that I had to send him home.
No, no... it's pale and surrounded by awkward, curly, red hair. It's the Ronald McDonald of penises.
The liquor stores are closed! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! CURSE YOU SANDY!!!!
I'm going to text my booty call and tell him nevermind, that I got the job finished by myself. That will teach him to text back faster.
This lesson is brought you by a psychology class.
My drug dealer just asked me to go see Les Mis on Christmas. Should I be worried this is some type of musical set-up?
I spent the whole ride asking the cabbie if people ever have sex back there, and if he wanted me to make that number one higher.
Men are too sensitive. They need to learn to handle me.
He's the one named Andrew. In his profile picture he is the one on the right in the monkey costume.
You now have a new job. Call me around 1pm everyday and make sure I've eaten something. All I've had today is dick and cheesecake.
Randomize
