i just turned barefoot contessa into a drinking game. everytime she uses a knife butter or salt i drink.
and that's why we call him explosion in my pants. no one remembers his real name.
its good she wears the same dress to all the weddings so we can track how fat she's really gotten
so glad i banged her when she was skinny
I wrote a list of all my homework due in the next few weeks. I feel I've done enough for tonight.
I'm eating lunch next to a table of beautiful culturally-diverse women chattering away happily. It's like sitting next to a Yaz commercial.
Just an fyi, teatherball while wasted might be the hardest sport ever.
On the couch having a debate with the dog over whether eating anothr sweet roll will make the hangover better or worse
So if you ever need to know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy that can put a 24oz beer can up his ass... Hit me up...
Was booty called last night and I was so blacked out that my roomie made me puke before going to "eye of the tiger." Why I'm still single is beyond me
You can fuck me but I'm keeping my parka on.
When was the last time you wore pants?
Time is relative.
And pants are optional.
Yeah, so, that moment when the repair guy comes in and you see your cock ring on the counter one second before he does.
She said I'm going to get you stoned and have you fuck me on the couch.
Look, all I'm saying is that you're going to be a great Vodka Mom.
Ahhh the shame of taking out my recycling
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