Our house smells like week old pizza, beer cans, cigarettes, and depressing career tracks....get lysol.
They should make a Rosetta Stone that allows men to understand what the fuck women are actually trying to say.
They call it the Collection Couch because all 4 room mates have slept with at least 3 different girls on it. He tried to seal the deal with "would you like to be number 14?"
And sadly I did.
Just think, if your stepsister would've gotten knocked up 2 years earlier, she could've had a TV show. What a bitch.
That's the last time you suggest we can get our tab wiped by out-drinking the bartender.
It was my card, so what do you care that you lost?
Is your card paying for my plan b?
Europe's "the final countdown" was playing. It was pretty much amnesty for anything that might happen the rest of the night. It's a rule.
Just heard the words 'Pussy Riot' on NPR...I almost crashed my car.
And the cockring thing wasn't sexual.
All I really remember is shouting "THANKS FOR LETTING ME MAKE OUT WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND."
What can I say? You have this amazing power over straight girls.
Visiting Houston was a good decision for my penis.
Hey, it's all about finding the bright side. And boobs are definitely a bright side.
I left after he drunkenly went into the kitchen and started to make eggs with a shitload of garlic. First time I'd ever had a makeout session interrupted by eggs.
I was in the rappers prayer circle. Then they're blunt circle
Details are irrelevant. Come bail me out of jail.
I feel like you're encouraging me to commit a felony.
I feel like you're wasting time.
Randomize
