I'm outside your house...sorry I feel like I don't need formal invites anymore.
She kept saying I was her favorite Jonas brother, and for some reason, I was ok with that.
I think the puke all over the side of my car actually improves its appearance.
I couldn't open my car door and for a second I thought they were taking me to an intervention circle.
My mom made me write an apology letter to all my family for hijacking the eggnog.
I mean besides the fact someone got stabbed, I still had a pretty good night.
There is an empty space on my boobs where glow paint should be.
I got us a lift home. Payment may require me giving road head, are you cool just chilling in the back seat pretending to be oblivious to this happening?
Oh, cold wet seat on the 48! Are you piss? Are you the sweaty ass leavings of an obese person? Are you the spilled King Cobra from the night before? I do not know! I dare not smell to find out... Pants ruined...
Packing for college has become a game of where did I hide my sex toys.
I told my coworker that I'd get him some edibles because he wants to rekindle his marriage. I'd better get some good karma out of this.
Woke up in a cemetery. Puked in front a funeral ceremony that was going on.
I'm so happy for you. But I still have to shave because a woman has needs and this woman needs an orgasm.
It smells like grilled cheese and sexual frustration
for future reference, singing eye of the tiger outside my door while i am having sex makes me incredibly uncomfortable
apparently not uncomfortable enough for you to stop
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