So yesterday I was on craigslist and I saw a listing for a sofa-cum-bed. I knew what they meant...
Next time, if you wake and bake, make sure you nail the wake part. Not easy to explain to mum. Or the fire brigade.
No, we ended up finding him drunk at a bus stop downtown sitting on the bench asking people for chocolates and amazing stories to "rid his mind of his whore of a girlfriend"
is it really high of me to have brought my own hot sauce to wendys?
I'm at verizon, the guy asked me why my phone is full of seeds. Deff. Not leaving my phone with you anymore.
bark. im thoroughly looking forward to kegs and eggs. next weekend should be pancakes and pinnical, then cereal and seagrams and then whiskey and waffles.
This was my thought process as I drunkenly ran home: Whoa! I'm going so FAST! Why don't I run EVERYWHERE! ALL THE TIME! Then I peed in a bush and passed out on the ground.
So basically you were a dog.
Girl on the bus just slammed her book shut, turned to me and said "I'm way to fucking high to be studying"
there's nothing weirder than waking up to your mom eating breakfast on the couch that you fucked her coworker on last night.
It was like giving head to a cactus.
Worst case scenario, I put a giant cork in your vagina so you don't give birth before my birthday
I know he's not here, but I can still see him. I found some of my old stash and its good shit so its expected to see sunlight at night and scary llama men. Midgets or otherwise.
Every time we have sex, I feel his dick ramming my soul into submission. Problem is..... I LIKE THAT SHIT!
I bought a machete, tennis balls, and matches. How is this NOT going to be a great night?
Just flash them and yell "JUDGE THESE BITCHES"
Randomize
