and that's why we call him explosion in my pants. no one remembers his real name.
you were sitting on the floor cleaning up your own puke and telling my mom she should hire you as a maid.
there is just no excuse for touching your mothers vagina.
What if we had a smart house and we could just say "baked" and it would rain donuts?
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Its 11am, im in the city in a pocahontas outfit, lost a heel and found a gold rolex in my lingerie.
You did a line of free coke with an obese Slovenian unlicensed cab driver in the toilets of the most questionable strip club in the country. New low man.
When you put it like that, I'm inclined to agree.
If I ever write a book, i'm calling it "why do i work with fucktards?"
It'll be a good sequel to my other book, "why do i sleep with fucktards?"
I wish dancing around my house in my bra and underwear to Love Shack whilst eating strawberry cake batter was an acceptable form of exercise.
We haven't even eaten dinner yet and she's already been asked to "take it down a notch" by the groom's mom.
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Your lack of enthusiasm for my exciting news of drunken debauchery with an otherwise occupied vagina of one of my greatest conquests yet disturbs me. I'm not happy with you
They just dared her to tape flip flops to her tits. Entertainment value cannot be found like this in any other part of America.
Sometimes i think i need to stop drinking because i can't afford losing so many panties anymore
So my family just woke up on Easter morning and shared a bowl. That's bonding😊
i have pictures frm only 4 hours ago that will fucking ruin you so i suggest yuo come get me.
Where are you?
dunno. ask mike. bring pain killers. and underwear. and my dignity.
I got really worried when i woke up and there weren't any missed booty calls from him between 3 and 5 am. Apparently his gf is in town ...
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