I am dying of drunk and no thats not a typo.
nothing as in nothinggggg kills the mood for me is when a girl with 4 cm nipple hair
my one-armed grandma is doing the YMCA. you figure it out.
No, don't worry. We're not going to get THAT arrested.
The cab driver told me he hopes I look up to him as a father figure. Then he asked if I wanted him to take me to the hospital
he called AT&T to make sure that he had insurance before he threw his cell phone into the fountain.
After 2 hrs of driving around looking for him, we just found him sleeping in the bed of my truck with the cover closed, cuddling with the spare tire.
ya i guess you have to take things with a grain of salt in a place where nipple clamps are the norm..
I remember halftime. Then I woke up in Spain. I need a drink in order to process this.
He autographed my vag. This fuck just got authentic.
You was so high that you insisted that you heard someone whistle, then you insisted they was trapped in the wall!
conclusion from last night: i should wear boob glitter more often
The bottle brush for the bong worked really well to clean the brownies out of the waffle maker.
it was like reliving my childhood drunk at a bar.
I wish drug dealers had sales for the holidays
Randomize
