They totally botched my boob job. My tits look like they're are winking.
I just googled "semen solvent" and got nothing. there has to be something that will wash this shit off!
I see a marketing opportunity
Dude.. I don’t care how hairy she is, you already left me at the bar, and now I have to find another fucking way home... NOW BE A MAN ABOUT IT!
In a meeting with the accounting department. This shit is even more boring in real life and there isn't a professor to wake me up.
I woke up 25 minutes ago and have been high for 20. Impressive?
any chance you can send me your legal ethics outline, in exchange for say, me buying you a lapdance the next time we go to the strip club?
I paid some man $10 for his shirt last night cause I liked it. Explains that. Bought the jackolope head from a street vendor. Got invited to someone's hotel rooftop swimming pool which explains why I was in my bathing suit. My clothes from last night are MIA. Going over the border with no pants on is awkward. Origins of the car rim still mysterious.
After she cried and passed out at four in the morning, I had a very lovely, very drunken conversation with her mother while decorating a cake into the shape of a penis.
I had to drink a couple beers this morning so I could attend the keg race. Hangover had to dissipate or it wasn't happening.
I just duct taped myself into my costume. I apologize in advance if you find me in a compromised position involving duct tape and underwear when you get home tonight
You told the guy in Wawa you needed his hoagie for "a scavenger hunt" and then called him a "fuckstained Muggle" when he didn't give it to you. You are a delight.
Nothing will stop me from making the title of my paper "The Great Political Cock Block." Absolutely nothing.
I also woke up in a guys bed in a Reptar shirt yesterday morning staring at a movie theater sized poster of the not as popular Air Bud franchise movie Super Buddies.
Just walked into the supermarket puking into a plastic bag while wearing my favorite Bob Ross shirt. I am a human disaster.
if my 20s were a chapter in my autobiography, it would be called "the room is spinning and my hands smell like dick"
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