You know the guy who poops at a party and then leaves and you go in, do your business, and come out and there are girls outside that think you pooped and no one talks to you? I'm the guy who poops before you go in, because I'm in a relationship and I hate you.
You stuck your head out the window to puke and got hit with a mailbox.
You don't have to be drunk! I've licked your asshole before
I'm going to make him fall in love with me one blow job at a time.
Have introduced beer-pong to my work's Tuesday lunches.
I brought him to this party even though we're not together anymore because we made a bet on who would have sex first, and it is a sausage fest up in here.
I could probably do something when Im able to get enough strength to think about thinking about to stand.
nothing says "functioning mature adult" like sneaking beer out of your mom's fridge in a lunchbox
You installed a beer holder in the shower?! You're the best roommate ever!
... That's a shower caddy.
I believe this is a toe-mate-toe vs. toe-maut-toe situation.
Hey, if I can't get it and you're still alive, can you get the glass out of my foot? Happy Sunday.
My dad just accidentally taught me how to make fake IDs. I love my life.
I'm missing my left shoe, and there's a note on my foot (in my handwriting) that says "HAHA BITCH" Any explanation for this?
So I spent all night thinking my bed was floating down a river and telling the cats to get on the bed because they were going to float away. Percocet is strong shit.
Summers almost over and we haven't golfed, got naked or had sex yet. Let's do all three in one day, no particular order.
There should be a guide book that probation officers hand out on "how to tell a tinder girl about your ankle monitor before she notices it at the worst possible moment"