You know the guy who poops at a party and then leaves and you go in, do your business, and come out and there are girls outside that think you pooped and no one talks to you? I'm the guy who poops before you go in, because I'm in a relationship and I hate you.
Best. Four. Twenty. Ever.
If you were wondering whether I accidentally FaceTime called the undergrad who works for me in lab during a particularly graphic blow job last night, then the answer is yes.
I hope my orgasm sounds aren't secretly that bad and no one tells me
How does this dude know what a dying walrus sounds like? That's the real question
I found your knife. It was stuck in my bedroom ceiling.
You know what, don't even answer. Just promise me you'll go to the Corner of Shame when you get home.
What the hell do I have to give up to manifest a dick
What's the procedure for answering a booty call from someone under house arrest?
Do I go to spinning class and try to redeem myself from going drunk, or do I wait a week and hope they forget I fell of the bike?
I am the fucking FIFTH wheel. How do you think it's going?
so evidently blowing a guy does not mean he will say hi to you when he sees you in class.. in case you're ever wondering
Why do my weekends always degenerate into using my little brothers childrens board games for drinking games?
Soooo, hypothetically, how long would roommates have to sleep together before its considered dating...
maybe you should have closed the porn before you gave the professor your computer to hook up to the projector?
Are you still passed out in my back seat, or do I need to come find you?
Randomize
