Get out...Run...Or there's going to be a dick in your mailbox
trying to fathom saturday night and the fact that Rainn Wilson now hates me. my brain hurts.
currently hungover, lying in bed and cutting cheese with my drivers license. ashamed? not even a little bit.
All I remember was the chick screaming "don't hookup with him! His dick's the size of a cucumber"
They have beer in plastic boots. How am I supposed to resist that?
searching my car for your cum before I have to give my grandma a ride to the airport. Thanks for this
Between my vibrator and my iPhone carpal tunnel is inevitable.
I'm chatting with a girl missing a front tooth. I find it quite distracting. I'm sure you have deduced what bar I'm drinking in on this monday night.
I feel that my cleavage set an unattainably high bar for 2013.
All three of my roommates have their significant others over. We're all hanging out in the living room. It's like I'm the trifecta of third-wheeling
I told you, she may have multiple personality disorder, but like in the most upbeat way possible.
We made a pact to go to the nursing home together... that way we could stay high till the bitter end. Do you not remember?
I banged a marine last night. No wonder everybody respects them.
Point in my hangover when I'm honestly not sure if I'm about to puke, or shit my pants.
Is it wrong for me to wish my cat had arms to get me a beer?
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