who are you and why are you in my phone as dr. seuss
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
At this point I just want to meet a man with a job.
This is your liver's 7:15 wake up call. Mandatory margarita popsicles after work today. Rule #71: no excuses, play like a champ!
You said you didn't want to drink anymore so you started shooting vodka down the back of your throat using a syringe. Oh, and then you aimed it at my eye ball...vodka in the eye hurts btw.
And then he told me he was too tired for me to suck his dick. Physically and mentally too tired for me to suck his dick. What the fuck?
I'm not sure how many more innuendos I can slip into this fucking conversation before I just blatantly say "I want to fuck you."
My liver and I thought we knew what we signed up for. We were wrong.
we were the definition of too high: argued for 10 minutes about who was gonna get the condom (it was 2 feet away on the night stand) and past out watching adventure time.
I woke up with my panties in the cat food dish, and everything covered in honey and bruises.
You took motorboating me in public to a whole new level. You poured your beer down my top and LAPPED IT UP.
You ask too many questions when I'm blowing you. You're like a dentist asking how my day has been during a cleaning.
Just put on slippers before underwear so you know where my priorities are
because he's a firefighter, wouldn't sleeping with him be like saying thank you to the community?
Why are you hurting?
Tried to drink all the beer in Nashville last night....failed.
Randomize
