Most the numbers in my phone are mistakes. It's a virtual graveyard of people I should never pick up for.
Wore last nights jeans to Christmas Dinner with the fam, found a half gram of blow, while they're praying ill be railing.
I tried to explain to the cop how we all have skeletons in our closets but he just wouldn't listen.
He got violent drunk so we have to untie him in the morning. He's in your basement and you're out of electrical tape. Don't forget because I will.
i hope youre ready for a shit show because we just ordered a whole pitcher of red headed sluts
1. Are there men involved 2. Is there food involved 3. Do I have to put pants on 4. Do I have to leave this bed
In college, I had one standard. Penis. A lot has changed since then. Now I really only have one standard. Breathing.
Best feedback on my performance so far: "There are things that can't be unseen."
Yeah when I texted her last night the only response I got was "stoned eating cobbler."
nothing like having plan b for breakfast in a cvs parking lot before ordering this semester's textbooks
im glad im back to a point in my life where i have enough sex to sometimes be offered and be like naw im good.
I told him that if he cleaned the bathroom, I'd blow him. You could eat off the toilet. Seriously, get over here. This is the cleanest you'll ever see it.
My name will be tattooed on his ass by sunday.
gin. gin. Gin. GIN GIN GINGINFFdJH
Are you really trying to argue your case that you seduced my cat?
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