Yours is on the dinner table...mine is in my underwear drawer.
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
He made me a mix cd. There is obviously something wrong with him.
Playing a game in life called "how far can I make a man travel for a booty call"
I definitely paid for a case and a fifth and all I got was 6 beers and a crown and coke. Wtf. Bar math sucks
No no don't get confused. We do chemistry homework on Thursdays. We screw on Fridays. Other than that, Words With Friends is our only communication five days a week. We are NOT dating.
A nice make out session never hurt anyone. Plus he's a pilot, so he'll know the safety procedures for when the night crashes and burns.
There is always the bar, but 2 30 on a Tuesday just screams alcoholism
dude there's a blind guy on the trail using his service dog to hit on girls.
It's disgusting. He breathes through his mouth and just sounds fat. Plus he chews all loud and shit.
I think the "tmi" ship sailed a long time ago, and it took our dignities with it..
I just wanted to be the best at what I did even if that included sexing a whole fraternity or sorority ya know?
Last night I watered my lawn and smoked a joint then cooked a steak. I'm really killing this adulthood thing.
Hangover and judgement, the breakfast of champions.
Did you put my shoes in the freezer.
Nope. I did however put them in the kiddie pool you pissed in in the living room before Tyler put them in the freezer. Ass hole.
Randomize
