Yes, that's a picture of my balls. It isn't however an answer to my question.
Grad practice is like a live scrapbook of my drunken sexual encounters
He broke up with his gf yesterday so he could give me our annual Christmas sex at midnight.
Marry him. Now.
I was stumbling so much, men walking behind us were shouting "don't hit the pole! don't hit the pole!" whenever I was near a telephone pole.
I totally left my shirt at your house. Also I think I high fived your cactus last night
Sorry, fell into some ass. Call you tomorrow.
YOU TRIED TO SWIM IN HER FISHTANK. I don't think she's going to call you.
Well. Now I feel like I put pants on for nothing.
Me and mom just bonded over our mutual desire to bang Mark Ruffalo. I'm not sure how to feel about this.
A to Z: fucking your way through the alphabet
It'll be a kids book
I'm going to talk him into letting me tie him up, and then just leave him that way and go meet you for fro-yo.
Went upstairs to make PopTarts, found the door open. Shut it. Saw a grey thing. Opened the door, found a girl sleeping outside. What the fuck happened last nigh
Pooping in a box is not fun. You're not a cat.
If I knew the person sucking my dick didn't say thank you for their Christmas presents I wouldn't be able to cum.
I am mildly hung over. Decided pants are very unnecessary right now.
Randomize
