And now I'm afraid that I'm a pornographic eater.
just got cropdusted by the delivery guy...this was not in my job description.
don't get me wrong, i love how you're fun and free spirited. but there are some situations...like shooting down a bottle of sambuca standing in the shallow end topless surrounded by my friends
I didn't mean to leave you there I just didn't know him well enough to throw up in his bathroom.
Do not shit in our house. There is no TP. I am walking to get more, if I do not return, I have probably died of dysentery after my last wagon wheel got stuck in a gulch. Tell Martha and Lou Ann that I love them, and that I passed away doing the Lord's work.
I saw pigeons eating ur dried up puke today. Last night was fucking great
You climbed on top of the bar, shotgunned a 25oz fosters and screamed, Steve Irwin was a God amongst men.
The guy I hooked up with last night left me alone with his dog AND IT JUST SHIT ON THE FLOOR. WHAT DO I DO
It's hard not to feel like a terrible person with bruises on your tits.
kick those bitches in the teeth and tell them mama came to party
Hypothetical question: Would it be wrong to tell the annoying children who don't listen to their parents that the motel is haunted?
My ultimate hope is that people will hug me, smell me, and therefore think I'm classy.
seriously i don't trust him. he fed me a hot dog out of a crock pot and gave me moonshine dashed jager bombs.
You threw him in the dryer?
He went in of his own accord. Mumbled something about experiencing the blossoming of popcorn.
There's just something classy about smoking a blunt in a prom dress.
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