Yours is on the dinner table...mine is in my underwear drawer.
i've counted 4 condom wrappers but only 3 condoms. not again.
I just smelled my beer. It smells like coming home.
You were so drunk that you were trying to take pictures of a MILF at the park so you could send them to Adam, but you didn't want to "seem creepy," so you used taking pictures of her son as a cover. Needless to say, cops were called.
Stop. He threw up in front of Madison Square Garden security. Spit at the guys feet and grunted ughhh at him.
He came to the party late, didn't bring tacos, and then asked what shennanigans we were getting into. I swear I will never fuck another hipster.
I knew you would eventually ask my secret. Pedialite mix drinks. Works wonders.
You have to understand, he didn't so much come out of the closet as he backflipped out of it with an accompanying marching band.
Well when you get back to your computer, there's a nice explanation of pansexuality on your Skype.
I'll check it out in the morning. Tonight has been reserved for getting baked and covering myself in kittens because THAT IS AN OPTION.
The guy at the bar repeatedly told us he was an off duty cop from out of town, that to normal people would be the time where you stop asking him to smoke a blunt with us
We fucked so hard that when I orgasmed I tore his towel rack off the wall. He was more impressed than mad.
I was so drunk that I passed out before I could do or say anything I'd regret. My low alcohol tolerance is like a guardian angel.
He's hot and has an accent therefore you don't ask questions when he tells you to take your pants off.
I'm in the Sheetz parking lot waiting for dad to finish a drug deal.
Randomize
