Apparently you make a good broom.
Best look from Detroit today: running across the street with your buttcheeks on display carrying a 40 oz. Or maybe being crazy-pregnant and screaming and slamming a pay phone. Toss up.
This is getting serious. I keep forgetting what's in my vagina.
Now i know why people get high. I sat in the same chair for about 3 hours and the only thing i worried about was how far away my chinese food was.
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I was. I was trying to blow bubbles in the toilet after I threw up in it. They had to carry me everywhere. I lost a sock.
I gave the naked guy in the hotel hall a pop tart. He stopped crying.
I think my vagina was keeping me fat all these years out of self preservation. It's like she knew what would happen if I lost the weight.
I will not hesitate to go down on a dick for some cream soda.
I send him pictures of my tits whenever I feel like he's paying too much attention to his girlfriend.
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I'm not worried. All I have to do is not be the drunkest painter at 8:00. Golden.
So our trip to Disney World ended in the three of us stripping at a gay club in orlando.
You know you're high when, "Why can't I steal the duck?!" Becomes a serious question.
I don't get promposals. When I asked my date I was so drunk I couldn't lift my head. Then I puked on my lawn after he said "ok whatever". That's romance
Dude. I keep thinking about how I let a man gum my vagina.
I'm nothing if not determined to sleep with everyone at that company
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