I smell stomach acid.
Here's my recipe for happiness. Go get a pen. 1. smoke a bowl 2. put on explosions in the sky 3. take a bath. Do this for about 1 hour or until all your problems go away.
you called me at 4 am to tell me you found the cracker barrel location where we'll have lunch next week
Am I a whore if I make out with a boy just so michelle can't?
But I always wanted my obit to read "Died violently in casino orgy," not "Never woke up from rectal surgery."
As I fucked him you stood outside my door screaming, "I'M NOT JUDGING YOU!" over and over.
I was judging you.
I had to feed him the pizza because he was too blazed to do it himself
Also what is the name of Americas thing where we had a holy obligation to expand westward? I'm going name my new lighter that.
I'm not saying Tijuana was a bad idea, I'm saying that we make poor life choices. And Steve was robbed by the police.
Using a miniature baseball bat to kill a mosquito in the house may not have been the most efficient or safest way, but that thing is fucking dead. However, so are three wine glasses, a lamp, and my baseball bat privileges. Worth it.
Wow it must be so difficult to be as popular as you are and smoke as much weed as you do
Would it be weird to bake him a cake that says "sorry I peed on your bed"?
All boys are excommunicated from my vagina until further notice.
All I want is a wedding with a dress and a veil and where I can go and my cat can go.
My vagina measures dicks. It's accurate to the half inch.
Randomize
