I think we should boobie trap our beer this time using duct tape, rubber bands, seran wrap, and urine. Trust me I have a plan and it will work.
New requirements. My future husband must have a nose ring and wear headbands.
We are no longer friends.
I shall celebrate this moment with a beer conveniently located in the sock drawer directly to the right of me.
Plus my stomach has been speaking through my ass all day sending notes saying "fuck you" and "this is from your liver" or "i will kill you."
I mean we had sex in a crib. You tell me how my night was.
please don't fuck her on my bed i'm too poor for laundry quarters
When we asked you how you got there you replied in all seriousness, "rode my legs"
It summer and it's getting a lot harder to hide sex bruises from my parents.
First world problems?
When I say drunk I mean that in the process of filming a fratstar cooking show they threw a keg into the street where the police came to clean it up. now all they can say is "THE KEG GOT ARRESTED."
No it's only my right leg that feels like it's about to fall off. The left is fine.
Almost just stuck my dick in my bong for no reason
They're frat boys at heart and have sickly, dusty, rotting souls.
I don't think the TSA would be too happy. Who knows if three ounces of lube will be enough for us?
I'm eating animal crackers on my bed next to my vibrator writing about the hopelessness and depravity of humanity. I am LIVING.
You need to stop leading guys on at bars - you're a lesbian.
And now I'm a lesbian with better self-esteem.
Randomize
