i dont remember who you are as you are in my phone as "mr. peanut."
The first sip always goes straight to my vagina.
he is literally lying on the floor eating cookies. doing nothing. and as i was hitting him he needed to protect the cookies more than himself.
But i don't feel like talking to him right now. I woke up an hour ago to a picture of his penis and I AM NOT A MORNING PERSON.
You tried to convince me you were sober by doing jumping jacks. For an hour.
I tried to say goodbye but you were hugging a trash can and I wasn't sure if you had clothes on
My liver and I thought we knew what we signed up for. We were wrong.
She said pants are for pussies while spooning peanut butter onto her frosted flakes with a serving spoon. She's not even high yet.
Romantically speaking, I want to sit on his face.
You need to get laid. You spent last night stumbling through the club pulling couples apart and telling them to leave room for Jesus.
Felt so good this afternoon, figured I wouldn't have a comedown. Wrong. Just realized I've been staring at a wall for 40 minutes contemplating the color yellow.
2015 is a year for health and mental stability and alas we are not yet there so yolo
HOW DO YOU FORGET TO FINISH WINE
You really need to not quote Anchorman while I'm giving you a serious blowjob.
My adderall dealer raised his prices due to "impending inflation" ... never buying from a college grad again
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