Dear __, it'd be a lot easier to fuck if you ever responded. So I'm throwing in the white towel, since I no longer know what you want. Sincerely, ___
There were 3 chicks in my bed I didn't know when I got home. Now I know all of them. Biblically.
I'm crying, drinking alone and applying for jobs tonight. I figure the alcohol will lower my job standards.
They're pole dancing on a handicap sign post.
I just told a kid I was in a wheelchair because Santa shot me due to me being on the naughty list. You should have seen this little bastards face
I'm sorry but that single bed couldn't hold all five of us, especially with those boobs.
All right cuz right now I'm in one of those moods where the shear thought of doing anything more strenuous than making a sandwich has me wanting to curl up in the feeble position and splash around in a puddle of my own tears.
It's just weird. It's like Big Bird dating Meg Griffin.
I blame it on the rum. It keeps jumpng doqn my throst.
We can do this. We've been drunk at a gay bar, we will not be taken down by a Tuesday.
arnt you supposed to become a mature adult when you move out of your parents house?
Moving out doesnt mean I'm mature, it means I can make pancakes and bacon at 3 in the morning and no one can judge me.
This isn't a because its valentines day booty call, it's a because your cock is phenomenal booty call that happens to be on valentines day..
And then he dove into my vagina like scrooge mcduck into a room of gold
Just caught myself trying to make grilled cheese with the stove off. I think my dad knows I'm high.
You know you're high when, "Why can't I steal the duck?!" Becomes a serious question.
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