I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
Dude love is like an itch. You fuckin scratch it, then it itches more, then you scratch it and it itches more, and before you know it, there is semen everywhere.
you are insane
like we started out all organized and composed and within thirty mins people were throwing up in the bushes, arguing over a beer bong and jumping in the pool with their clothes on
my bartender licked my nipple. never stay after hours
In hindsight, the torn ligament in my knee is probably the fault of the ginbucket and jager bombs starting at 3pm. I guess I'll stop blaming it on you.
I feel like my teeth are caked on with other teeth. What did I just smoke?
nobody understands how my tooth became embedded in the ceiling last night.
All I know is she walked in crying with a bag of limes and a bottle of tequila and has been locked in her room blasting lil wayne ever since.
definitely just forgot to put car in park in front of a police officer and ran into a bush.
She said it was unconventional for me to yell "Shazam!!" when I came inside her.
i know it looks like there's pee in the mayo jar in the fridge but i promise it's just apple juice that wouldn't fit in the jug after i added the booze.
I'm fucking blazing boy. 5hr weed sauce kicked in and my entire face feels like an 8ball of gold bond flying down a mountain of Fresh powder. Just gliding.
He flew in from NY last night. We had sex in the back of my car in the airport parking lot and then he fed me fresh Babka (from Breads Bakery) as I drove him home. I can't decide if I love him or Babka more.
he walked off and puked in the sand. then he made a sand castle over it so that "it wouldn't upset the kids"
I feel like you should store your weed in something that suits your personality. For example mines in a hollowed out disney princess book.
Randomize
