That glade motion activator thing keeps going off every time we pass the bong. I don't know what I'm getting high off right now.
so jimmy johns showed up at our party last night. our house is sponsored now. living the dream.
I'm not saying going to the volleyball games drunk on Tuesday night was a bad idea I'm just saying we shouldn't make a routine of it.
the fact that my dorm room overlooks a children's daycare is enough initiative for me to have safe sex.
I was masturbating with the shower head and someone flushed the other toilet. Pretty sure I have 3rd degree burns on my clit.
Do you remember puking up your retainer into the toilet and putting it right back in your mouth?
I vaguely remember trying to exfoliate my face with your leg hair. Sorry about that.
somedays, I wish the drugs you give me would convince me they were a bad idea preingestion.
where's the fun in that?
When I said 'i love my boyfriend' I didn't mean 'send me a picture of your penis'.
Just explain how I got from the bar to a house I've never been in, waking up to a cop in uniform ripping a bong
Is it a good time to tell him he's getting too clingy if he sent me a picture of my name spelled with Cheerios?
I owe you cheese. The drunk munchies don't acknowledge food ownership.
The fact that you're allowing Santa to dry hump your ass is sort of a dealbreaker
So really what you're asking for is an allowance to not have sex on our futon.
I am thankful for thumbs.
Because without thumbs, we would be dolphins.
Land dolphins.
Randomize
