We found an eightball on the ground last night. I mean, really, who does that?
Reason #437 to hate Louisiana: Just went to the public bathroom at work. It was so humid the toilet seat was damp and sticky. Either it's the humidity or I sat in somebody's yesterday piss. I choose to believe the humidity.
You need to take one for the team and go bang a random sample of mexicans. Cause my internets broke and I can't google mexican foreskin stats.
The drunken tricycle race really added some class to the Tour de Franzia. Until everyone wiped out and started puking.
His thanks his mom for not having an abortion at his wedding toast. I love frat weddings.
Turns out the old man beside me in the waiting room was dead, but other then that it was a good day.
So I'm dropping a fat deuce at work, and the lock on the stall door slips and the door slides open, when suddenly someone comes in. Now I have two options, I can either get up quickly and try to shut the door quickly (not easy to do with one hand) or I can just sit there and play it off like it's no big deal and I always dump at work with the door open. I chose option two, and it was as awkward as it sounds.
Gave up on finding an ashtray.... just started flicking it in my purse.
I'm not the one who gave a guy that lives next door to my grandmother a blowjob in a pub bathroom in Ireland, you have no room to judge.
I will forever remember this as The Great Jalepeno Cock Burn of 2014.
he just fluffed my hair and told me I had to dance with him because we were both gingers.
Fly, little bird! Repopulate the ginger race!
It's my birthday weekend! I'm getting a Brazilian and he's going to fucking Arkansas. Where the fuck are his priorities?
I came home braless and wearing a tail....
Goddamnit, guys. I got lube all over my kindle.
I think about him when I masturbate so I guess you could call it love
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