dude, I'm watching paul blart mall cop. I have better things to do than listen to you whine about your recent divorce.
i just peed in a port a potty and wiped with my credit card statement. fuck yeah!
I've come to the conclusion that the only reason I fucked him was because he reminded me of Seth Rogen.
then you gave the doctors and nurses bloody high fives
its barely noon and he already threw up and i have second degree burn
we weren't quite sure what was on that mirror, so we snorted it and hoped for the best
he gets drunk and then tries to eat the lasers at the dance club
Either this is the best sandwich I've ever had, or my stomach is just relieved to have something in it that's not Red Bull or semen.
At the time, making out with dudes for keg money seemed like a genius idea. Now I realize it was borderline prostitution.
i want to find a way to basically assault his face with my vagina.
My pussy is making all kinds of justifications that my mind would have no patience for if it was still in charge
did you know that my friend knows a guy with 3 balls what the actual fuck
I swear going to your house is like going to a strip club, no matter what happens I get glitter on me.
It's 1am and I'm on LSD and I have diarrhea in a Dunkin Donuts. Help me
i just want to die with dignity and clean teeth, is that too much to ask?
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