I feel like death. And death is wearing a fleece blanket as a dress. And is seriously contemplating wearing this to go get something to eat.
Working on an important paper into the wee hours of the morning, and every time I type the word "situation," I can't help but think of effing Jersey Shore. Those guidos are now ruining my academic life.
You had me at "you have a nicer rack then her"
She called me her ex's name in a supermarket. How boring am I that she livens up shopping by thinking of another guy?
I never kept track of who else he slept with. You think I have the time or the energy to keep track of every dick in my life?
I'm sure it was awkward. I've never had a professor expose parts of them to me before.
You told the cop FUCK YOU AND YOUR TASER, i dont think he appricaited that
I'm the only one who goes to a bar and leaves with an extra twenty bucks and a pumpkin.
Thanks for setting a pic of your balls as my desktop background. You'll find you're cc'ed on the mass email of it.
Nothing like the soothing screaming of your neighbor getting boned while eating a pizza on the front porch.
I reek of vagina.. My cab driver commented.
I only drink at bars with bathrooms big enough to have sex in.
My husband just came over to kiss me and said, "careful, I got a block of cream cheese in my pocket"
we played his NES Classic. Turns out there is a warp zone to my vagina.
I guess you could say that.. I mean, we did walk in on our DD doing a keg stand thru her ass.
Randomize
