theres bread in your mailbox im going to eat it
nevermind its newpaper
you're in nursing school, now tell me what to do about a burned clit.
Heads up. We filled your kiddie pool with kool-aid and vodka. Things are about to get Out. Of. Hand. Quickly.
It's like God was speaking to me through a penis.
How did you get the entire couch up on it's side and into the bathroom?
You insisted on squirting shots of captain morgan in your mouth with a turkey baster by like 930.
And the clouds opened up and the sex gods said I hate you alfalfa
I know you're on vacation but you should know I just walk of shamed through a hotel lobby while leaving a threesome on Friday the 13th. Fuck superstition, I win.
After arriving 30 minutes late, he slowly walked to his desk and halfway there he just falls over like a tree and passes out. I now have some sort of proof as to how awesome that night was.
SHUT UP I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF UKULELE AND LONLINESS
That's what you get for doing kinky shit with a guy that lives in his moms basement.
Duck, Duck, Goose is now the autocorrect, safe for work version of fuck, fuck, loose.
Drunk in my hotel room, eating taco bell, and crying at Nicki Minaj's life story.
This is why I keep you in my life.
Everyone got an underage but her
How'd she get out of it?!
She hid in the FUCKING DRYER
Our baby is creepy.
That's how we know it's ours. haha
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