Her cooch smelled like a combination of bacon and sweat.
The album was titled "Best Night Ever" until she found out she was preggers and switched it to "God Punishes Sluts"
i wish the dell website had a "did you drink an entire bottle of rum and stepped on your laptop which shattered the screen this weekend and would like to know how to fix it without your parents finding out FAST?" link on their homepage.. i can't be the only one
Every single time I start thinking that we shouldn't have done that to him, I think of his ballsack in our passed out faces. No sympathy.
Just curious... Do you still have the cocks bracelet? You know, the one we pass around to whoevers been the biggest slut recently?
You planned my entire going away party sitting in the bath tub cradling a bottle of Cuervo. You promised me fire jugglers. And a pinata.
So I vaguely remember making out with you this morning, I think you were on a date?
I don't know what to tell you, usually I would just ask if they'd like to meet the captain. If you can't get laid it's your problem.
That rando I gave head to on the beach just endorsed me on LinkedIn for Oral Communication Skills. So there's that.
Straight up asked lady in a lime green jumpsuit how to make your ass clap. That thing wiggled more beautifully than ocean waves at sunset
Where can I buy a stripper pole at midnight on a Sunday?
I have work in an hour and I'm having trouble with concepts such as 'staying upright' and 'staying conscious'. Tie me to your wrist next time we go out drinking,
I try not to flex my sex appeal too much around the engineers, it's like feeding bears...always ends in disaster.
Can we just agree for a moment that semen in your sinuses is the fucking worst?
I'm going to smell of sex and shame.
How is that different than any other Monday night?
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