he fingered my asshole thinking it was my vag...I couldn't bring myself to tell him, mostly from shame for me and pity for him
My drug dealer is spending the weekend in my studio apartment. I feel like I've crossed a line that should never be crossed.
You are the patron saint of my drinking problem.
I'll put it this way. My grandkids felt that fuck.
Somebodaw call 311 postw fire bunso on vietena floorwnkd
He fell off a seesaw, tore half his ear off and somehow convinced the paramedic he was allowed to have a beer while being treated
The night started going downhill when I set my foot on fire.
I'm just high and in my robe and I would suck a dick for some pizza rolls. I can't talk about your problems right now
When you hit the 45 minute mark of any argument about The Flintstones, you have to realize: it's no longer you arguing, it's the cocaine arguing.
I suggest absurd amounts of masturbation this weekend to build up the necessary calluses
I'm still home, my life isn't together. Currently drying my pants
Where does drinking Flat, warm beer from two days ago rank of the No Fucks Given scale?
She super glued his penis to his testicles. And shaved off a good portion of his hair after he passed out at the party.
You left me a really long voicemail saying, "Hey, it's meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee." and then the rest is just loud laughter
Nothing says “I spent too much in Vegas” quite like eating a jar of pickles for dinner and planning on cream of celery soup for breakfast tomorrow.
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