your room smells of hookers.
And success
So we made editble underwear with fruit roll ups and fruit by the foot
Man, I must say, having known you since preschool, Eiffel-Tower-ing her would've fully completed our journey to brotherhood.
The "don't get cum on anything" rule also applies to my furniture and scarves
That's not technology. Doesn't count.
I'm now drinking beer through a straw. By order of the bartender.
I JUST WATCHED PAULA DEEN PUT BUTTER IN HER BLOODY MARY. This is not a drill. Real life.
we're all going for beer and wings at 7. inflate your girlfriend and bring her along too.
I vote we get high and sneak off to McDonald's to get mcflurries.
YES. ALL MY YES.
Sweet tea and masterbation. It's how I manage.
I was walking out the front door and heard his roomate say "It looks like you need a chiropractor." I think my work here is done.
I told the bartender that his red, white and blue shots were terrible and tasted like Thomas Jefferson's balls.
Are we at that point yet where I can just say "I want you to sit on my face"? If not, want to go out for "drinks"?
Is it disrespectful or patriotic to pole dance on an american flag pole?
He just kept repeating "It was like meep meep meep on my balls."
HILY FUCK HES HERE I HAVE MONISTAT IN ME HE SUPRISED ME
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