I got to see an enormous amount of vagina this morning.
I got drunk and threw up on a kid at the amusement park. I think they're pressing charges.
I told him we couldn't have sex because I was ovulating and "I come from fertile people."
She was singing my heart will go on into her barf bag. celine aint got shit on her.
My vagina is scared and excited at the same time. It might not be able to sleep tonight.
the more i look through evidence of last night, the less i seem to remember.
I had to explain to the waiter that I'm not the DD because I can't drive, but as the Designated 'Make Sure No One Gets Roofied Or Hit By A Car On The Walk Home'-er, I should still get the free drinks.
I'm just going to say , cocktail races are not for a Wednesday night maybe not even a Friday type of deal
My hair is short now so it will be easier to give you alot more blow jobs
I'm going to take this text and frame it on my mantle
when I went into his room, he was sleeping on his stomach, almost as if to silently say, "you're not touching my dick tonight".
Guess I'll put him on my to-do list too. But closer to the bottom since we dated before. That's almost unethical.
She just drunkenly falls over and yells " I lost my footing!" in a british accent and then proceeds to run into the wall... did you spike her water?
The only way that night could have gotten any better would be if a unicorn would descend from the heavens with a nacho bell grande in a bag around its horn beat boxing Hakunah Matata.
He shattered his pelvis base jumping so his dicks out of commission for 4 months. Your up, second string.
If my life today were a movie the subtitle would be: Revenge of the Beer Shits
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