NO FUCKING WAY. PLEASE MAKE HER IMPLANT THAT POOR KID INTO A RESPONSIBLE UTERUS.
I didn't say she couldn't, I said you shouldn't.
Best text conversation ever. Other than the one we had about using blood for lube.
Dude its 315 and I'm sitting here eating slices of cheese. Don't talk to me about tomorrow.
You were pretty committed to that cat costume. Between pukes, you would meow and assure people that you just had a hairball you couldn't get out...
Dude she was 62...with a boob job. And I'm proud to say I made out with that.
We realized he wasn't with us anymore, so we turn around and he's 20 feet back, peeing on a squirrel.
I was tripping balls on the bathroom floor and his dog walked in. The lights in his bathroom have motion sensors, so I thought his labrador retriever was Jesus.
The chips are stabbing my teeth, and I can feel the muscle under my mouth contracting.
We hit a golf ball off Brady's ass. His dignity flew away into the night.
My actions are not mine. They are the actions of Patron.
I mean really am I setting up a snapchat when I'm 40 so I can send nudes to my 23 yr old bf? yes, yes I am. Where is my life heading.
UPDATE: THERE IS ASS EATING. I REPEAT: THERE IS ASS EATING.
I don't need romance, I need cheese sticks
I’m literally watching say yes to the dress, eating fancy cheeses with crackers, and I have orange dark chocolates. All of which is being washed down with merlot. And I’m 100% sure a porno is gonna go down next door tonight. They don’t have a car and arrived via taxi. Happy holidays from motel 6 Pendleton Oregon!
Randomize
