It's like a parade of train wrecks.
You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
I just found glass in my funny face pancakes, there's nothing funny about that.
it's my sixth sense. If there's an orgy within 20 miles of me i'll know about if. Or be a part of it.
I made out with him with my retainers in. My drunken hook-ups get lazier and lazier.
She just referred to her vagina as "this bitch".
That's the second time in a week someone has called me to talk drunk you into getting up off the floor. This needs to stop.
Exactly. So you're exempt under the "I can't just fuck her to make it go away" clause of 2010.
You wrote me a check. For zero dollars. For my soul. Dick.
I love this text stream: discussing the development of a business model centered around cooking acid to bankroll a yacht trip in Croatia
I ate breakfast with him. And by ate breakfast I mean we fucked on the kitchen table.
I don't give a fuck that he's gay and keeps hitting on me. Free cocaine is free cocaine bro
Dude, he paid us overtime to smoke weed out of a bong at his house
he said he couldn't believe he just lost his virginity and passed out. what have i done
I’m photoshopping my boobs to up my Tinder game. I need better dick in 2020
Randomize
