You can bone my sister, but I will end our friendship if you write 'LOLERS' one more time at the end of your texts.
insurance, jail, and birth control were made for people like us.
Somehow last night, my dad got me so drunk that I ended up throwing up on the couch, turning the cushions over to hide it, and going to sleep on them.
My mom just found some of our lube mixed in with my box of pots and pans. I hate moving home.
I need to talk about my life with someone. Preferably with someone who hasn't tried to jizz on me
We're celebrating his weight gain and arrest.and by we I mean I, and by celebrating I mean getting dangerously drunk
Nothing like puking into an empty cooler at a red light on the way to get plan b.
I don't think there was a moment this weekend where grey goose did not course through my veins
I want him to be the Hulk to my Brooke Hogan this Halloween. Can I ask him to be my daddy this weekend?
Only if you say it like that.
In brighter news I got condoms and a mattress protector today.
Put down the bong. Turn off Hey Arnold. Stop calling me football head.
I love you football head
Any residual attraction has just been ruthlessly murdered by that mustache.
Literally just saw a 7 year old intently rub his penis on the metro. I'm not ready for this
The internet is out at West Chester so I'm masturbating using my imagination. What is this, the fucking dark ages?
Wait is this black Chris #1, cocaine Chris, or gay Chris?
No this is saxophone Chris
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