I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
he was sending me dirty texts but i was watchin nickeloden and couldnt get into it
im ashamed your my cousin
Rule #1. Nothing comes between you and fantasy sports. Not even a hot chick willing to give you a blow job
I ride home in a shopping cart. Don't at like you aren't jealous.
Her boobs were tiny. I could have used her bra as a blind fold. Which in hindsight would have made things a lot better.
I'm sweating while I eat mac and cheese. That fat.
You could have chosen coming to fuck me over getting too hammered to drive. But you made your bed, and now you get to jack off alone in it.
Oh my god what did I do. My hands are scraped, there are pickles on the floor, my clothes are wet, and I don't remember how I get here. Thank you.
You never cared about felonies while buying me alcohol from the little Asian woman across the street
He seemed like a really nice guy. He tried to dry my shirt because someone spilled their drink on me. I think that's how I ended up topless on his dryer.
I'm drinking nothing but vodka and coffee for the next 48 hours. For science.
Is "when in doubt date the guy with the bigger dick" a good philosophy?
I woke up this morning with a sharpie tramp stamp. Pretty sure it's a picture of a squirrel.
Like I don't care that he's a drug dealer, but I have a problem with his inefficient and ineffective business model.
I'm sorry, but if I hear stories of you getting fingered in the ass, and selling weed, you are not coming to my party.
Randomize
