i love my job...i have craft hour at my desk w twizzlers
can u grab me a application
My porch is a mess of peanut butter and tostitos...thanks for that.
Yeah but he's impersonating a gargoyle jumping off of everything. Including the walls.
I honestly wish you had parked the car in the terminal garage and fucked me in the backseat but I guess I should be more forward
Operation liquormelon is in full effect. We may die tonight.
Think I pulled my pelvic muscle.
I think I pulled my ashamed of myself muscle.
"Clean/organize my room day" turned into "Blast my old Jock Jams cds while getting high as fuck with a strobe light day"
The last thing I remember was you puking all over the inside of my door and him yelling "PUKING RALLY!!!"
Official reason: I couldn't get time off. The real reason: last Xmas nearly ended in alcohol poisoning to prevent me from screaming like a velociraptor
i am craving dick and cupcakes
The last time I saw you, you were giving the stripper a lap dance.
So, I just ordered a breathalyzer for this weekend. I figured if I'm getting shitfaced, I should at least be scientific about it.
She was shaving her legs in the neighbors pool when we found her.
Where'd she get the razor?
Not the point.
Of course my parents remember you. You showed them your tits
My boob job is like a master key that gets me in any door, any party and anyone’s pants! They’re magical!
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