Ever have the mailman look at you like youre a chronic masterbator. I have.
When are you freeeeeeeeee?
My phone auto corrected that to freeeeeeeeeedoooooooooom. That's kinda awesome.
Thinking about bringing a vibrator to the tanning bed...kill two birds with one stone right?
They only remember me when they're drunk...I'm like a suppressed memory.
It totally doesn't make me a groupie if I hooked up with him before he was in the Olympics
they duct taped my keg cup to my hand with my sister's phone number on it. I should be ok tonight.
I really couldn't tell if she was disgusted with the fact that I yacked on her shoes, or if she was about to do the same to me.
I woke up and blew hamburger out my nose. That kinda night.
...She was shooting whiskey using a turkey baster...i was horrified.
Just please never masturbate in my bed again. I'm burning my sheets as I write this.
Maybe we should invest in one and when one of us wishes to be a hot mess in a wheel chair the other one will push the mess around to wherever it wants to go.
Hahahaha who is sleeping in the garage on our beer pong table?
I wore home his HoHoHo boxers. I've never felt such a connection to an article of clothing.
I'm seriously considering selling my books back early. I don't use them anyways and I could really use the beer money..
Uber southern baptist grandma and uber flaming cousin just got into an argument about whether jesus is OK with gay marriage. Aren't these things only supposed to happen at Thanksgiving?
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