So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
official worst smell ever. a used condom that has gone through the dryer.
When i tried to give you something that wasn't tequila...like water....you kept saying it was against your religion.
I've always been the spiritual type.
My mom just blew pot smoke into my nose and called me a cat.
Also pregame at mine tomorrow?
i'm sorry i gave your brother a handjob while you were on the blanket next to us, but to be fair your back was turned.
Glow parties are what I live for
Your priorities in life astound me
We just laid there in bed together, petting his dick and repeating, "IT FEELS LIKE VELVET!!!"
I decided staying home, watching porn and masterbating was a much better choice than the gym. And I was right.
They are going to name an STD after you.
Well, we ended up labeling the relationship. We are now each other's designated butt-toucher.
Give me an out of order sign and caution tape and we can have sex practically anywhere.
It's really hard to masturbate now that I live with girls who actually function before 11 am.
Whoever jacked off in MY pong room on the bean bag with your fucking googles pick up your fucking cum towel you gross disgusting fucks. I said NO MORE jacking off in that room. I swear I will empty it out if this is going to continue.
I think I won an award for shitting and vomiting at the same time.
operation Bang Australian Boy = oh so successful
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