I feel like this woman may give her husband a hand job mid way through dinner. just saying.
Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
he saw my emergency pass-out-in-the-bathroom-after-drunken-puking cot in the bathroom.
He wrote my name on his dick, took a picture and then said "this has your name written all over it!"
We just saw him running from campus police a few minutes ago. So no, I don't think he's still passed out on the quad.
He spent the entire date challenging me to chugging contests.
dude you said you were going to be a human flag and climbed the telephone pole and fell in front of a car
My bed smells like stale sex...I want it to smell like fresh sex, I miss you.
Relationships are fuckin' work. And you can't just up and leave with no questions when you really just need to get home because you're about to shit your pants.
You're so wise.
But I mean how many guys can say they get blow jobs and grilled cheese with football
My pants are on and I'm pretty sure I tried to throw them at someone.
Afterwards he face timed like four of his friends screaming he banged the hot intern.
Threesomes are not as fun as you'd think. I left with a black eye and I'm not sure who's to blame.
He got up after sex and said "is it wrong if I say happy Mother's Day?"
When the people downstairs start talking about drugs, I second guess buying my drugs from them. Then I remember they are cheap and convenient.
Randomize
