We were tigers and tigers don't wear pants
Her directions to the house party: "the north star will guide you, turn left. I'm wearing the potato hat"
I know now the amount of smoke it takes to set off the fire alarm....no longer worried about using the bong...not even close
Woke up to the first three complete chapters of my new novel titled "If My Dick Could Talk" waiting for me on my laptop
I give him a gold star every time I orgasm. His room looks like he's freaking King Midas.
It's amazing how not interested in talking to him I am since I've decided that he probably has chlamydia.
She finally pulled over after almost hitting 4 cars and a semi and asked me if i was rwady i told her to let my penis to come back out
What? My family got wasted on patron and I threw up on my pants and said it was gravy. Hot mess.
Nothings harder than putting on a frozen condom.. or should I say softer
I walked in on him fucking my best friend. I think we've reached the point of following each other on twitter.
The fact that it was "anything but a cup" now explains the cowboy boots and fishbowl aftermath at the apartment.
The only thing about him that I appreciated was that he destroyed the bathroom at your birthday and missed singing to you. And we all knew.
I just want to feed you taquitos and play with your boner and live happily ever after
my mom walked in on me eating her out, and i can never kiss my mother again.
It seems that I didn’t convey clearly enough how well and truly fucked we are, Jack. Listen to me very closely: we are DEAD.
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