brass monkey on radio. cant stop dancing.
if my spotter knew I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack on my iPod, I wouldn't even be mad if he dropped the barbell on my throat
yea, the bartender wouldn't serve you because you kept asking for "a slice of beer"
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
Even my psychiatrist thinks I should fuck the married guy.
My vagina is depressed thinking about her future.
The vagina on Hilton Head is mighty fine this time of year.
He probably has his cowboy hat on, that's his house hat.
I was tied up in bed before noon, the rest of the day can go to hell.
We literally just Chinese fire drilled so I could give him road head.
I swear to god, my hangover cure is a green tea and a 15 minute twerkout. works every time
We broke up. And I told him he better give me my fucking star wars movies tomorrow. Priorities.
I love you. Go after that dick
So, then you thought it was a good idea to dress up like the Hamburglar, buy a bag full of McDonalds hamburgers, go to Burger King and throw them at everyone while screaming "HAMBURGLAR!". At that point there was no stopping you.
duddde i wasn't even home last night and someone elses clothes are on my floor and there glow sticks everywhere?!
Randomize
