I just spent an hour correcting all the grammar and spelling of all the 2pac songs on my ipod
happiness is walking an amphibious rodent on a leash
Boys can't fool me. I know "want to come up and meet my dogs?" is just a nondirect way of saying "come up and meet my penis".
Look, if he's not the brother with three nipples, I'm just not interested.
It was all cool until he grabbed my vag and started screaming: THIS IS MINE.
This spray tan I used isn't working out. I spent an hour exfoliating and rubbing the damn stuff in with rubber gloves. I wanted the alluring, sun-kissed, sexy look. I've achieved smelling like burnt popcorn and the cats won't stop licking me. I'm a salt lick for cats.
Rush week is fine, only the t-shirts are white and if it rains, the frat boys in their lawn chairs will be treated to 800 freshmen girls in their first wet tshirt contest.
Welcome to college.
Bone him for me, BONE HIM TWICE FOR ME.
Hung over and there is no way in the world I can make this mess look good today. Only solution is to stay drunk.
I told you alcohol was flammable, but you didn't believe me until you tried to extinguish your sparkler by submerging it in vodka and the bottle burst into flames.
My desire to pee is a lot higher than my need to be buzzed right now.
I don't know what's worse. The fact that my biological mother is an unwitting bigamist, or the fact that my half sister is trying to seduce my girlfriend.
Afterwards the first thing I said was, "You know, you're probably the first guy who has ever gotten laid wearing Star Wars pajama bottoms."
i think ive been high everyday since ive met you
if I hear Wonderful Christmastime one more time I'm putting my foot up Paul McCartney's ass.
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