I cant. I'm trying to smell my vagina.
My psychiatrist is "consulting" others. I am high-achieving nuts.
I just typed 14 shots of Smirnoff into my calorie count toolbar. Then typed pole dancing 1.5hrs into the calorie burner search. Should break even.
Dude, I couldn't come. She sounded like a goddamn dying walrus.
I ate a pepperoni off of someone's floor last night. We need to talk.
I guess our biggest consolation is that we haven't woken up in a hottub with a dead dude. Yet.
He sent me a Microsoft outlook meeting request to blow him in the storage room at work. I had to accept.
EVERYONE IS SPEAKING SPANISH. I ONLY KNOW HOLA.
When the nurse referred to my vag as "your downstairs", I knew I found the perfect Doctors office.
Remember that time you puked in a beer pong cup while someone else was playing?
that happened
You then played what you called "a smooth jazz rendition of talk dirty to me" all thrusting your crotch at the bartender. Mom looked horrified, but my dad couldn't stop laughing
The tit pic search didn't go as planned, some old guy sent me a pic of his balls and said stop texting his daughter. Better luck tomorrow
I have a hunchback of notre dame journal from when I was 6 wherein sits a diary entry that reads "saw liar liar today. Carrey's best yet" and that's all.
Excuse me. I’m a mature responsible adult.
You got your arm stuck in a vending machine trying to get fruit snacks.
I had a cast on my hand and if I paid for my fruit snacks, I’m getting my fruit snacks.
Nothing kills the mood like opening another guy’s dick pic in bed
Randomize
