I don't believe in a God but I'm almost positive I just shit out the devil.
And there I was, sitting Indian style on the kitchen floor, my fingers covered in peanut butter.
I have no idea why I said that. I have no idea why anything happened last night, I broke my toaster making a egg. I'm going to quit drinking.
Why is hotel staff askin about the blood in our room
Like her Facebook page isn't even hers. It belongs to her tits. It's Titsbook
trying to figure out why the only thing in our freezer is an expired loaf of bread, a white t shirt, and a receipt from taco bell for 37.50 from last Friday
You asked the waitress what the corking fee would be on the Joose you smuggled into the restaurant.
We can Fuck in the shower to save time
And this is why I like you. You're so damn innovative.
I also have to vacuum the broken noodles out of my suitcase...
I totally straight up jacked your pants. I am so sorry.
Well the term Party is used loosely in this situation. Since it will just be mom wine drunk and us eating chips with multiple dips.
Pretty much just farted directly in a baby's mouth on the subway
I mean I just feel if I'm not being fat and lazy then I'm not really being myself
There's something empowering about being at dinner and sitting across the table from two men you've blown.
i just want a beer and a blow job. is that so much to ask?
and i just want a ring so i can stop faking it. is that?
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