So when we opened his headboard we found a bottle of crisco sitting on top of his porn magazines.
I guess we all know what he was cookin.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
i was concerned for your health after you took your "last shot" four times...
The bouncer said he wanted to but BBQ sauce on my legs. That Mystic tan has already paid for itself.
Hahaha alright after 5 shots I'm not allowed to touch glass or boys with girlfriends.
she added emergen-c to the bong-water bro, brilliant.
Just found bacon bits in my pocket. Blackout buffet is the best.
While looking for an apartment, I've realized that the way I rate balconies is on the "how easy would it be to smoke weed here" scale.
What other scale is there?
I should've been more social I guess. I feel bad not meeting the people who willingly sucked alcohol out of my navel...
I shit you not ... they just advertised a recruiting service for strippers at this concert.
This is America. Thomas Jefferson would have said I want some vagina.
I was ok with it until you started yelling " just the tip!" I know she's you gf but don't backseat drive the three-way.
Drinking Fireball means never having to say you're sorry. Unless its at you're arraignment.
See, I'm just thinking of how...angular my room is. You probably would have sustained brain damage
I can't believe he's mad at you for not remembering your fake anniversary.
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