Someone took a freaking dump on a roll of toilet paper. Next to the toilet. No shit in the toilet. Just on the roll of toilet paper.
he asked me if i would dance for him to make it easier for him to jack off. does that answer your question.
Their car went through the first bag of wine on the drive up...clearly 6 bags was not enough.
I saved him as teletubby in my phone....that can't be a good sign. I'm not answering.
Like some sort of pot growing robin hood.
I see your smile in the face of every drunk that senses he's about to slay a troll.
How many trips to the liquor store in a week constitutes alcoholism?
Simple math equation: Up till 5 a.m. drinking + up at 9 a.m. for nephews birthday party = puking in the pool
I'm honored that you could tear yourself away from your girlfriend's vagina long enough to text me.
The only thing he told me before he passed out was that he is from Buffalo and I'm a bitch.
This whole quitting my bad habits all at once is really messing with my ability to function.
It's becoming clear to me that I am not sugar baby material. I don't think I could handle old balls long term.
Anyways enough about genital fatigue...
The awkward moment when you're leaving the most attractive guy you've ever been with and you're trying not to shit on yourself. Fucking welcome to my life
I refuse to take any type of advice let alone love advice from a motherfucker who is missing 3 fingers from a Fucked up masturbating accident.
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