so heres a good story. about 6 hrs ago i took a bath with bruce blasting. and 6 hrs later i woke up still in my bathtub but in cold water
if you call bong hits and onion rings a party, then yeah
I was just handed a mimosa the size of my head. Stay tuned.
Stage 55 clinger. not a typo. I cannot even believe this shit.
There was no way out of it, seeing as I left my photo ID right next to the vomit.
He just made me apologize because his morning wood is NOT a laughing matter.
We had to coat check the pizza.
Gina was bawling her eyes out and then she ran into the street and peed. she kept screaming "LOOK WHAT YOUVE DONE TO ME"
I think our prof has caught onto our drinking game. He burst into the room with a big smile on his face and yelled "essentially! Essentially! Essentially!"
I can't relate, I like my boobs roaming free like a wild animal, and I occasionally let them devour small children
come home. i made deep-fried hotdogs; don't let me die alone.
At the funeral we'll say nice things, like "She was delightfully extreme, psychotically wonderful, and could probably drink all you fuckers under the table."
That's literally the perfect eulogy
Dude... I had a dream that I was getting high for the first time. I got to experience my weedginity again. It was glorious.
HE MIGHT HAVE YOUR BUTTHOLE, BUT HE CANT HAVE YOUR HEART. THATS MINE.
I know you won't see this for awhile, but I had to tell somebody, and you're like the only person who won't judge me for having an accidental erotic encounter with General Tso's chicken.
Randomize
