I love sluts.
I end my prayers with that every single night.
Just taught my suite how to queef. I feel like i'm back in 9th grade!
I need a second opinion on who's blood is in my car.
Game over. He has a paternity test request on his table.
I don't know what the fuck is in the water in New Hampshire, but these dicks are HUGE.
We're gonna have the chick that teaches kindergarteners to fold origami roll the joints.
I'm more concerned with the fact that he was UNconcerned that live poultry could peck him in the nutsack @ any moment of sex
Piecing together the sordid story from witness accounts and photographic evidence, courtesy of Fcebook. My night included Mojitos, lighting the bar on fire and declaring myself the Queen of Nerds when I stole someone's flashing tiara. Woke up this morning with a velvet cape and plastic scepter to match. Mojitos are awesome!
Really stoned me is having a very serious, intent conversation with my mom about egg rolls and koolaid flavors.
You peed on a pole and declared to a cop that it was your pole and yelled at him to not even look at it, and then yelled at all of us for looking at it.
I haven't included my nuts in a shave since the Shaq/kobe Lakers era. I gave my self the ol full court press in order to change the tempo.
The stripper was dressed as the green lantern. Even for a geeky girls' bachelorette party it was lame ass.
A good example of deductive reasoning: Knowing that when my girlfriend texts me "I promise not to smoke all your weed!" that she is...at that VERY moment...Smoking All Of My Weed.
All of a sudden he got that look on his face and ran to the dance floor and started fist pumping to Rihanna that kind of night
please don't ironically join a cult
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