I just pulled a feather out of my vagina.
I am not joking.
Stop it. You sound like you're giving birth.
Her father's a cardiologist, her mom's a lawyer...she just went from a 5 to a 10 real quick.
If I can't get a one-legged man to love me, what the hell chance do I have with a NORMAL guy???
you humped every kiosk in the store. then you asked for an application.
All I need is the Internet and a place to drink.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
The fact that me being able to walk down stairs is an accomplishment in my books pretty much explains how I am
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
I have poison ivy and a broken finger. Don't have a threesome in the woods.
As we were leaving a memorial service last night he turns to me and says, is it too soon for a post funeral blowie?
What have I told you about trying to use Jesus as your wingman?!
Because of you I'm damaged goods. I'm a fucking soup can and you dropped me.
He calculated like a serious conversion in his head the other day and got a crazy number and I was like damn that’s hot please proceed to take your clothes off.
Randomize
