It's not prostitution until you're out of college. Right now it's just strategic boning.
Pulling over on the side of the road to set off fireworks was the worst idea you have ever had. I don't care if it was called a friendship pagoda.
AND OMG I HOPE YOU ARE GREAT WITH CHILD. COOK THAT BUN!
I dont think getting to 3rd base with a girl you barely know is the type of memory they had in mind when they named the park "memorial park"
Totally uneven. One tiny pussy lip that almost didn't exist and one giant lip that unfurled liked 5 different times half way down her leg and could have been used to hoist the mainsail on a pirate ship.
Using a miniature baseball bat to kill a mosquito in the house may not have been the most efficient or safest way, but that thing is fucking dead. However, so are three wine glasses, a lamp, and my baseball bat privileges. Worth it.
Everything is just really out of control. I hear puking from three different parts of the house. Roger has black eye from being punched. Kaiser tried shaving his head, but somehow burned himself. Music is bumping, but everyone is either puking and calling out for help or blacked the fuck out.
I donkey kicked that mother fucker. Never stood a chance.
It was a door. A completely inanimate object, of course it didn't stand a chance you idiot.
So I just bought e from my sophomore home ec teacher. How's your weekend going?
Any chance I can buy my dignity back with $45?
I successfully navigated a full, lengthy interaction with my dad in which he never asked me if I was freshly baked. 10 points.
I have a knack for carnage and poetic language.
I miss my teeeeeeeeth. They're in a bag in my hand.
I think my liver has finally had enough and is going all Ashley-Judd-in-a-Lifetime-movie on me.
He's hot, clean, can actually cook, and best of all isn't a narcissistic prick. I found a unicorn.
Ride that fucker.
Randomize
