i'm the matthew mcconaghey of this party. i'm too old, and too high.
im starting to measure my showers by the number of beers i drink while im in there.
I woke up in what appears to be a taco bell graveyard in my bed.
I woke up with a Nike swoosh shaved into my chest hair. my friend got 3 stitches. my phone had a text that simply read "fuck you". I say it was a good party.
Look at it this way: if he'll have sex with a tomato, he'll have sex with you.
Seeing a catheter being inserted into a penis severely diminished my sex life
seriously who else gets carried home puking from a fucking mary kay party?
Every fourth of July I get sentimental when I think back to the one where we drove around baked off our asses crashing multiple cookouts listening to Team America's "America, Fuck Yea" on repeat. I miss us.
I'm silent, like a masturbating ninja.
I just debated creating a mirror system so I could play Batman while in the bathroom. I think I need help.
I already knew that. But I also don't agree with stifling creativity.
Yea, I had a chaperone thankfully. I'm in the fetal position attempting to eat captain crunch now.
Like real life can suck my metaphorical dick right now.
I slapped him but he didn't wake up. He just nuzzled my head, hugged me closer, and smiled.
I woke up to his balls in my face, so naturally I limboed under him and headed to the bathroom. When I came out he was asleep on the floor.
Like every two minutes he would pull out and whipser "don't you do it, you bastard" while looking at his penis. His new name in my phone is 'penis whisperer'
Randomize
