So yesterday I was on craigslist and I saw a listing for a sofa-cum-bed. I knew what they meant...
Every time you buy a sobe you buy a bong.
Laurln. I am dying. I am npt alive. Adderrall is not a real thing. Death is a rwal thing which I understandably
until he told me my vag was like a juicy apple and he loved eating it, yes, i really did think we were both sober.
I can't figure out if I'm dying from all of the booze still in my system, or from the cement wall.
I can't wait till they start promoting the testiciplasty. Turn those old prunes into fresh tight kiwis!
Day drinking! Today! (tomorrow too!) Our place! Whenever you get off work! Ready go!
It has moved into the cliche "thin line between love and hate" real quick. With her. Not Taco Bell.
I beer bonged before it even hit 4 o' clock. Please get on my level homecoming style.
I may or may not have definitely said the words "how do I put this beer in my purse without looking like an alcoholic" last night.
The sorting hat of life was not kind to you.....
But seriously, I love having sex with you and simultaneously know I never wanna date you.
He referred to our sex as "an Olympic event." My tits are bruised.
Remember that time we were together? Yeah, I don't miss that.
What the fuck was I thinking eating an entire tub of potato salad on acid. My stomach today bro
Randomize
