I had a disgustingly explicit dream last night involving myself and lil wayne.
I've had that scene from "Parenthood" where Rick Moranis' character is singing "Close To You" to his wife in classroom, stuck in my head all morning.
I guess my mind is just wondering whatever happened to Rick Mornais.
apparently i traded the tiffany necklace my mom bought me for 2 shots and next in line for beer pong at the frat.
y-o-u-r-e = you are, y-o-u-r = your. you are a bag of douche not your bag of douche. if you're going to insult me at least do it in proper english. that is all.
It could have went better. They kicked us out of the casino and I drunkenly whipped her across the face with a fishing pole. Long story.
Our dealer is pledging my frat. When he come to sell me weed I make him take out the garbage.
there is no excuse for him not showing up to my st. patrick's day party. i touch his dick. i get him on the high holidays.
I'm more concerned with the fact that he was UNconcerned that live poultry could peck him in the nutsack @ any moment of sex
Today is definitely a "stand over the toilet and pee through the opening at the bottom of my boxers" kind of day.
I guess the silver lining is that having a big dick really comes in handy when you're hungover.
It's a mixed blessing.
That moment when you notice a tiny IR camera pointing at you, in your bed, at the apartment you found on Craigslist.
the girl whose rug I peed on is here
No like I actually peed on the treadmill. As it was running
WHAT A DUMBASS ugh I'm so glad he looks like a middle aged dad now
Someone explain to me why I woke up to find a stolen shopping cart in my room...
may or may not have snorted a line of tums... wtf.
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