i just farted in the library and heard some girl yell it was sulfur gas. can. not. move.
Legit screaming match in this bar over the differences between cupcakes and muffins.
me and my mom are sitting in the bank parking lot drying my beer soaked check with the heat... the whole car smells like heinekin and I'm trying to convince her I don't need a.a.
Whoevers house this is has only beer and cream cheese in the fridge. Thats the diet im gonna go on
I didn't cheat on him. He just hasn't been informed of the open part of our relationship.
He passed out with the ball in his hand so no one could play beer pong without him.
six ambien and a bong later...he was calling me blueberry princess who need rescuing from the evil oven, and he was sir Eatsalot.
Highlight of my night: you taking that shot of garlic butter and then throwing the empty container down on the stairs and saying FUCK.
The bond between me and cheese is something no man can understand.
I mean, the sex was awesome last weekend, but I didn't even imagine I'd reached ovarian rupture status.
I don't want a mention or even a whisper of a Shakespeare Festival by that or any other name including, but not limited to, a fucking Renaissance Fair. Are we clear? It will be a DEALBREAKER .
We ended up on their roof with our pants around our ankles shotgunning beers at one point.
My mom has a bong in her bathroom, but no air freshener.
We were making out on the floor and his 13 year old beagle crawled in between us & just sat there...I got cockblocked by an ancient beagle named Bubba
I can see. My condolences to your vagina.
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