There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
Any day that starts with a call from my ex-bf... crying... is a good day.
I was wasted and lost so I called the cops and asked for directions. It seemed logical at the time
You need to come back and get me. This is not a jersey shore party and he is not dressed as Pauly D and I am about one shot away from hooking up with a real fist pumping Guido.
I hate girls that dress up to come to planned parenthood. I just want to be like we are all in the same boat here, we know your slutty. Its OK.
I need to shower. I still have paint on me from the homeless guys
Doing blow at 6am to "wake myself up for clinicals" was a baaaaad idea
She scratched my sunburn during sex. I didn't know whether to cry or cum
I think I was using my hair to catch my vomit last night.
You were.
Like, actually questioning if you ate dog shit last night
All I have done at work today is eat and try to get my coworker to tie me to his bed again
correction: my vagina hates that I'm smart.
The beer shits the day after completing the World Beer Tour at Epcot are just as epic as the tour itself.
He won't leave and I need to take a shit and vomit, quite possibly at the same time.
How was your day?
Peaceful. I left the house to get paid and get fried chicken.
Randomize
