So I have $4.22 in my bank account, just wrote a check for a tooth brush from quikmart, and bought a 25 cent condom from the bathroom. i don't know whats more sad, my bank account or the fact that i'm entrusting my entire future to a condom machine that was probably last filled in 1970
did you know that snuggie is the perfect anti-freak out aid for stoners? it weighs you down so you can't go anywhere. just sit there and enjoy the movie, that's right.
Whatever. It was high school. Back then I'd blow anyone who had enough room between their chest and their steering wheel for my head to fit.
I tried to take a photo for proof but couldn't hold my penis, camera, and measuring tape all at the same time.
Pretty sure they aren't letting me back to karaoke night after I screamed "fuck every one of you tasteless hillbillies!!" because I felt they didn't clap loud enough for Jen.
It might have taken me 30 minutes but I finally finished the toast I made. That hungover.
Neat. I'm thinking about growing a handlebar muffstache. What are your thoughts on this?
Someone's vagina was extra sandy cause the left side of my bed feels like the beach.
I am descending into that finals week rage fueled by ramen, mountain dew and bad sex is what's up.
You texted me the words "butt stuff" 53 times in a four hour period last night.
I just sent a dick pic to a number on Craigslist, this may be my new low
whoa whoa whoa, you're saying I shouldn't post pics of you balls deep in a southern hottie?
Should I rub the neighbors amazon package in the dog shit they left on the front steps?
He tried to eat me out...through my pants.
When we were finished she immediately got up, cut a star out of a piece of paper, colored it gold, taped it to my chest and deemed me the Sheriff of Sex.
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