I'm tuning in to watch Heidi Montag crash and burn on the Miss Universe Pageant. Somebody call 911. and I'm not talking about the Sean Kingston song.
i'm so high that for the last 10 minutes i pretened my sock was a mouse, and played with it like it was legit.
its like she was born with a silver dick in her mouth
you passed out on the bathroom floor with the door locked. we had to break in and no one was sober enough to move you so they just threw a towel on you and stepped over you
Good news: he out-ran the campus police. Bad news: they were chasing him toward the REAL police.
i also performed surgery on a chicken burrito from what i can tell from my scissors
sitting in my room in a shopping cart. they couldnt get my legs out of the holes. i want breakfast.
He waited until after foreplay to tell me that he didn't have a condom and "we" would just have to settle for a bj tonight...
I'd feel sorry for him and his injury but it's an inconvenience for my vagina
So again no comment on the cleavage. I'm a bit disappointed. If those girls come together to make cleavage AND I send you a pic of it, you have to comment on it. That's like relationship 101.
Since Josh is going to be Carl Sagan for Halloween, he bought a turtleneck and sportsman jacket. It's all my nerd fantasies come true.
i just realized... if i ever hook up with someone on my bed, we'll be fucking atop my animated batman themed bedset.
In my defense I didn't know there was concrete on the other side of that fence when I tossed him over it.
You're both fucking idiots and this is why I should never let you two drink alone.
It's not a hangover, it's "slept on a couch with another person and said person moves a lot and is loud"
On a scale of 1 to hungover I’m definitely throwing up at the office today.
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