you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
Yo dude either Brian has herpes or he was jerking off to Web MD 'cause I just walked in on him
He plays me like an instrument...he is the Carlos Santana of my vagina.
He doesn't need a wingman, he needs a miracle
Oh well shit happens. This is my not worried face. This is also my still decently drunk face.
Pretty sure I just had sex with the black kid who grew up in a car from "angels in the outfield"
How come I never meet celebrities?
We carried on a casual conversation about plants while I gave him a hand job.
I know. She seems like she getting that "need some dick" restlessness. Might explain the feisty attitude
So the " I'm gay but curious" thing worked. You owe me 50 bucks.
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
He just showed up. He's like 5'8 and brought a beer pong table that has " I love gay boys" on it. How could this go wrong
Maybe if I get to know him I'll stop wanting to fuck his wife so much.
I'm never celebrating Galentine's Day again. It was a whorrific mess.
Btw I definitely had pizza sauce on my face, a painful hickey on my neck, and I just remember screaming SISTER WIVES because of the girl's 1997 jean skirt! Wow.
I just want to find somebody intelligent enough to trick my parents into thinking she's not a trophy wife. Is that too much to ask?
Randomize
