Looks like an M-80 went off in a lb. of pastrami
Thats the last time I go out drinking with my Irish friends. Two shots of flaming sambucca = bar on fire. I was only trying to high five the barman.
This is getting serious. I keep forgetting what's in my vagina.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
she was puking into the toilet drowning herself saying "its okay im a swimmer"
Dude, I don't care how big her tits are. I have to dump her. She shit in my shower.
i made potato chips in weed oil. what did you do today?
Dude your not gonna get by security covered in blood wearing only a robe
Don't worry I'm drunk they won't say anything
I'm bringing vagina and cookies. You'll be fine.
He texted back and said he would hook up if he didn't have a test at 8am. It's really hard to be annoyed by how good of a student he is.
Yeah that sucks. That's why I stick to deadbeat sports management majors.
Apparently he took me home and I pulled up my senior pictures on fbook and made him guess what I was thinking during each different pose.
Finally buying a camera. Missed out on recording a 3way last night. Hindsight. Ugh.
your ability to divide cases of beer among any given group of people equally was missed.
Is this really the life I've chosen for myself?
He told me that when he bends me over that chair I remind him of a bull rider. So thanks for being the ex that helps my present sex life
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