Only at my house do scrabble games turn into fist fights. I won though... the fight not the board game.
He told me he was ok to drive home. Then I found him face-planted in the parking lot.
We need to either drink and not go to waffle house or go to waffle house and not drink. I need to know which is causing these shits.
He keeps the condoms in his bible. I guess stairs or elevator, we're getting to hell one way or another.
I can't look at him without thinking about his cum face
I sold weed for gas money to get home. I thought that's what college was for.
In lieu of flowers, please donate to The Hungover Children's Fund in my name.
maybe her throwing up on me was a foreshadowing of how she would later metaphorically throw up on my life
Btw, do you want me to fix this with a box of wine and a chick flick or is this more of a 'lets head to the strip club' problem? I'm just trying to analyze the emotional depth of the situation.
Highlight of the weekend: getting roundhouse kicked in the dick while switching from reverse cowgirl.
Thats not real though. Slash there are other extenuating circumstances to lead me to believe dick is wanted
HOLY FUCK I SPELLED EXTENUATING RIGHT ON THE FIRST TRY. IM THE BEST DRUNK NA
So i had a lucid dream about blowing myself. This is why people love me
Well waking up naked, covered in Chex mix is not how I planned to start my Wednesday if that's what you're getting at.
yeah but really his dick tasted like soap. like i was blowing a bar of soap
had more orgasms than hours of sleep last night
Randomize
