He said to me this morning that we should finish these beers, go and get plan B then on the way back, go to the pub to celebrate the death of our baby. I love Manchester.
I can neither confirm or deny any bear related allegations right at this time.
And my cat won't make me food. She's a bitch
You told me you aren't worried about the police that you've been training for this an that the last three months of your life have been devoted to building up your stun gun tolerance and pepper spray recovery time.
She gives the worst handjobs, it was like raw meat on a cheese grater
Dude, i don't know. I don't remember anything after we started chanting/playing "shot of gin."
Some cougar Brit said she loved me. America is bouncing back.
Know what was probably a bad idea? Using white wine as a mixer for vodka.
My boss followed me on Twitter. Excuse me while I delete 90% of my tweets
Hey, it's not my fault that you had a shitty bed frame that couldn't handle the rough sex you're into.
I just opened a pickle jar stoned as fuck. I clapped for myself. I feel like wonder woman.
I thought you died. Don't forget it's burger night.
The cat was building a spaceship out of the carpet, my legs were cans of tomato sauce, and there was something else in that pot you gave me.
You’re sleeping on my couch so you’re not making dick appointments tonight
If he brings home bacon, dont let him leave. Dont screw this one up. this may be our last chance.
Randomize
