Last night was epic. Hooked up with Emma Watson, found twenty bucks, and then passed out on my floor.
No you didn't. You drank unbelievable amounts of 151, passed out in someone else's bathroom, and we carried you back to your floor. Nice dreams though.
The neighbors are smoking hash and doing Julia Child impressions...again.
Nobody is wearing shirts anymore. What is happening.
If she wasn't my friend I'd think she was a huge slut
we couldn't afford a big pool so we bought 2 kiddie pools and put the inflatable beer pong table inbetween. get over here. now.
Tonight is one of those "I'm wearing a shirt as a dress" nights because I need to get laid.
Am I undercharging for one hour of sex per essay? I need a serious business answer.
Honey, I don't care how "classic you" this is. It's not gonna matter if we can't find you in the morning.
That's like the cock version of a mortal kombat fatality.
We weren't even through customs yet, and we got offered weed. You would love Jamaica.
I plan on just grabbing someone's dick if I have to. They will know what's up. Why else do you go to a bar alone on valentines day?
I'm high and dancing to practical magic. Your needs for my penis can wait.
Well my grandma put the turkey in the oven for 4 hours and didn't have the oven on.
Just smoked the bong while taking a dump. I love living by myself.
So how do I get back in good graces for trying to trade you for superbowl tickets?
Randomize
