It feels like I shit a light bulb that shattered on the way out.
The only pictures he has from one of the biggest football weekends is an album titled "I miss my dog" filled with tons of pictures of his dog and him. This relationship must end.
They had a "who can aim further away from the toilet" contest. I'm now washing piss off my ceiling.
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
Me too. We could do it like prostitutes. No kissing on the mouth.
Multiple bruises and a hell of a headache later, I have still to find out where the fuck I picked up the bottom half of a mannequin.
You're only allowed to hookup with one freshman a semester. MAKE IT COUNT.
Yea we just broke up
so do we start sexting now or later?
Lesson learned. No more vodka and toaster strudel
I wish our county sheriff had a comment section for their mugshots.
Chasing my kid around a 30' jungle gym was not how I envisioned spending the day off work to recover from a vasectomy.
I only know one person in my class and that's my dealer.
I frew up on some kids lovely sidealk chald drawings..
So I remember having an orgasm, but I didn't wake up next to anyone. Your dog is afraid of me. Is this a sick joke?
Keep your fingers crossed. If I get to go to a Stanley Cup game I'll give you the blowjob he deserves for taking me. Because hes definitely not gettin it.
Randomize
