I feel like my lungs want to punch me in the vagina.
is that even a sentence?
It's like I opened a door and behind it lay mythical creatures sprinklin fairy dust upon the land leading me to a pot of gold. And that gold is some delicious cock.
Of course it was necessary for me to call the strip club and ask what their shower policy is. Smelled like she was wiping her ass with my eyebrows during that dollar dance.
I danced on the street to dubstep on a boombox for an hour with a lesbian single mother.
We need to put it on a rope attached to the bong, so it can't be dropped. Apparently, you need a stem safety leash.
Learn from my mistakes, you naive soul: Gay love triangles are just as dangerous as straight love triangles.
Wine is the only reason I'm making it in the real world
It's situations like these that make me climb out of windows
March Madness means a buffet of emotionally vulnerable dick at the bars almost every night. So yeah my vagina and I are big fans.
Drunk is not a location!
I know, dude. If he ends up having a tiny dick, I will literally pack it back into his pants and leave. Not worth the aggravation.
WHERE THE FUCK AM I? AND WHO PUT DUCK TAPE ON MY NIPPLES! MY NIPPLES!!!!!!
Wait til you see what we did to Dave. Hairy bastard will never be the same
He makes furniture for a living and is basically a hot, younger Ron Swanson
reminiscing on last night: why the fuck did I feel the need to stand on chairs everytime we took a jello shot?
That married penis I’ve been riding offered to pay off my student loans. I was going to break it off because he has lousy stamina. Is being debt free worth putting up with mediocre sex?
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