I just did the scooter of shame. New levels of embarrassment have now opened.
frozen peaches as icecubes. vodka Sundays just got wayyyy better
you would think someone who fights for his country could fight to last longer than 2 minutes
Pregnancy scare over. Let the cockfest begin.
Fuck that. I will get OUT of CONTROL And rise from a hangover on Sunday like Jesus himself.
Doing lines off a plate that says, "things go better with coke."
I can never go back to Jacksonville. We think I may have punched a child in the face while on acid...
She busted her face in a tragic twerking accident. Marking the 2nd time I have peed my pants laughing.
My mouth feels like it's at the dentist but my body feels like it's at the strip club.
Well, we ended up labeling the relationship. We are now each other's designated butt-toucher.
He dared you to draw a map of the USA on your wall in mustard. You drew something that vaguely resembled a velociraptor eating Oklahoma, got embarrassed because you forgot how to spell America, then hid out in the coat closet until everybody left.
too bad burritos don't cuddle back
Like I don't care that he's a drug dealer, but I have a problem with his inefficient and ineffective business model.
Rum and your dick are involved. You're relying on the unreliable narrator.
Drinking at 10 in the morning and swimming might not be the best idea I've ever had but it beats working
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