I'm sorry for everything. i woke up with two citations stapled to my shirt.
I least I know I can't get pregnant because it's on my hair
Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
you went through ur friends list and posted an obscene comment on every ultrasound pic...."not his" "looks like a sea monkey"
you tried to arm wrestle for the title of "mom's favorite son"
He just made his dick say "woof" and howl at me. can you pick me up?
good, we got high then went swimming. shelly forgot to keep swimming so we tied her to the ladder in the shallow part with her bikini top.
4 girls bringing me taco bell. this is what dreams are made of.
I keep replaying commercials about kittens frolicking and was crying nonstop. WILL MY PERIOD LAST FOREVER!?
Happiness was finding the hidden Gatorade in the fridge
It's that thing where you don't have any food so you just drink beer to get your needed calories for the day.
You put your name in his phone but not your number then screamed "Open the door!" and jumped out of the car
I need you to perform a face transplant. Please remove your face from your accounting book and relocate it to where it's most needed - between my legs.
There's no button for "gave my boyfriend's cock to a friend" on my intimacy calendar.
That confirms what we've all known all along. I'm a bad gay. I have no fashion sense.
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