just put cider in my bong. gotta love fall
I have vodka an food stamps. At some point today, that will undoubtedly turn into jello shots.
The moment that kid turns 18, I will have his sperm for all three meals.
Oh God. You're going to jail
I'd be a gr8 surrogate. I'm gonna love your fetus
I HAVE MY OWN TITS FOR THAT AND I CAN GUARANTEE THAT THEYRE MORE GLORIOUS
UPDATE: lighting the grill with Bacardi. Haven't slept. Forgot the hamburger buns. Almost out of our eighth handle.
He's like Medusa, you can't look directly into his eyes or you'll turn into a slut.
No, this is a senior booty call. It cannot be ignored.
He knew exactly who I'd slept with after just one look at my crotch. He's like the Sherlock Holmes of cocks.
Dude. You gotta go home. I think I left the snake hanging on the chandelier.
This weekend I forgot a cup, so I drank my wine out of a Pringles can. So classy. You would have been so proud.
Both of us came out of our rooms at the same time in boxers and sat on the couch. No words were spoken.
I want my tombstone to read "making poor life decisions since 1993"
HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE TROPHY HUSBAND! I WAS GOING TO BE THE SUCCESSFUL ONE!
He wrote on the bartenders notepad "phone?" So I wrote back "911"
Randomize
