i've decided that sluttiness is like a disease, it can lay dormant in you for years and then one day you go to college and with all the booze and drugs and boys and time on your hands symptoms begin to show then one day BAM you're a huge slut. it's like how izzie had skin cancer and it grew into brain cancer.
There is something about drinking on a golf course and getting with younger women that just really makes me feel at home.
walking in back of a girl wearing booty shorts, a halter and a bracelet that says trainwreck. I don't get it. The first day of nice weather and all the whores come out, are they like hibernating bears or something?
reason #14 for loving my boobs...just got out of a 40mph over the limit speeding ticket thru a work zone. i dont think the cop knew i even had a face
we were on a sandy mattress. i was wearing a sweatshirt with a poodle on it and eating a whopper jr. i wouldn't have fucked me either.
I knew you would eventually ask my secret. Pedialite mix drinks. Works wonders.
I don't like getting sloppy drunk but I don't like getting just half drunk either, I'm way too responsible if my blood alcohol level is below 0.2
First sex of the summer I'm winning 1-0
GET HOME NOW
Oh shit
My genitals don't want beer. They want to not feel like they wandered into a hornet's nest.
Just asked my roommate if she needs one of my old pill bottles to hold her weed during our move tomorrow. What has grad school done to me?
He said I looked like a ballsack and I tried to choke him out with my Ghostbusters pajama pants. Happy fucking Halloween.
When she said "Tighten your safety belt and hold on!", that should have been a clear sign to me that one should never go off-roading in a rental car. On the bright side, they were able to tow her car out the next morning.
i wasnt sure i had a crush on her until i woke up this morning and saw i had googled fifteen variations of "lesbian marriage in estonia". where the fuck is estonia
If my life today were a movie the subtitle would be: Revenge of the Beer Shits
Because, after all, nothing quite says life in 2020 than doing laundry at 9:40 on a Friday morning to make sure you have masks and underwear.
Randomize
