the line for where the wild things are looks like radiohead had sex with an urban outfitters
she told me her two favorite things were grocery stores and dick.
No she hasen't showed up to my place yet, last I heard she was puking as she was walking without stopping near the park.
Well I tried to steal a golf cart. I fought with the Chick-Fil-A cow. And other things.
judging from the lines on my body they wheeled me back in a shopping cart
I thought it went well, but he just sent me a video of me sucking an icicle on the fire escape of his building with the caption "The ice got more than I did." Somehow I feel like I owe him a blowjob.
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
By the way. I expect to test the theory of you running a mile drunk for memorial day.
All I know is that I'm not gonna send out SOS messages via twitter for your rescue this time.
Just checked my voicemails on the work phone on speaker. Thank you so much for the one of you screaming "COME FUCK ME NOWWWW!" my boss loved it ..
It's a journey
And the destination is his penis?
Precisely.
He just showed up with a bottle of wild turkey a half a can of coke and some marshmallows yelling "gobble gobble bitches" my roommates hate my cousin
He passed out. I tried to set his chest hair on fire.
Is there a tactful way to ask "how are your balls?" Or do I just ask point blank
Dashing through the vodka, in a tinder swiping rage, all the fuck boys get a no, laughing all the way.
Randomize
