Note: footlong is not the password to the subway wi fi network.. p.s- im super high
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
There's a naked kid on the floor on your side of the bed. Don't freak out when you wake up. I think we need to fix the lock on the door...
so high i just made my own version of grilled cheese using toast and spray cheese
here comes the puke
i said good morning to each one of his abs personally
OK, the bar's closing. Do I go to home to my wife or my girlfriend?
I won't be able to make it. Too hung over. Can't hold down fluids. I'm in the bathtub trying to hydrate my body through osmosis. And yes, Tequila Tuesday is totally still on for tonight.
Tomorrow is Have Sex and Climb A Mountain Day. We have amazing dates.
We could make it cute. Like "oh those two cute lesbians who are about five foot two who sell the cocaine down the street. You know the ones? With the Yorkies?"
I swear I can feel something in my uterus. Like, I can feel his sperm searching for an egg. Wtf...
You were chugging tap water out of a running blender screaming "bubbles is Perrier mother fucker"
Worrying about "What smells like cat pee?" is so much easier than worrying about "What am I doing with my life?"
Sorry, It's like OkCupid Olympics... categories: best sext, best dick pic, and most effort by ugly. You won gold in the last event if that makes you feel better.
I just walked by a dude at the gym covering himself in olive oil.
Every time Brady gets sacked I cum a little...
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