I'm calling you out on twitter if you don't come over right now.
The bar I'm at just passed out smores to everyone. I don't know what it has to do with cinco de mayo but I'm down.
At least he's not married... I hate Halloween hookups
you blew your rape whistle in his face every time he got near a girl till he left the party...
And I'd make him talk dirty to me. In Forrest Gump's voice.
I can't figure out if I'm dying from all of the booze still in my system, or from the cement wall.
You got her pregnant one week before your vasectomy? You couldn't wait one week to cheat on me?
Also, rendered a whole bar silent last night when I told a guy to take off his panties and take a shot out of my cleavage. Video to follow...
I sent dad a photo of my graduation certificate from drug therapy class. It was his birthday so it seemed appropriate.
If you need to be the damsel in drunken distress make sure it's before 3.
If you really loved me, you'd support my weed habit.
As the person who squeezed you out of my vagina, the answer is no.
I think someone cast a spell on the lazy stoner rich boy stereotype and it came to life and called me.
I just had to close my blinds so my neighbors wouldn't see me drinking a beer at 9 am. GO CHIEFS!
You know you have hit the best years of your life when you enlist the 5 year old to be ball boy during beer pong and pay him with candy you stole from Walgreens
Here's an unsolicited pic of my tits, because you almost died last night.
Randomize
