I woke up this morning to 4 booty call texts. So i am trying to find the sign that says i like to sit on cocks so that i can take it off.
trust me, i wonder where that sign is on a daily basis.
DO IT!!! IT MUST BE FATE THAT I GAVE YOU THAT CONDOM!!!!
She wants her shit back. Clearly she missed the cheaters-get-their-shit-ritually-burned clause.
I told him he didn't want "flip-flop extraction" on his medical history.
hand shaped bruises on both boobs again....i wish i could say this is the first time.
We're the only two others left at work. My internal monologue is going: TAKE ME. TAKE ME NOWW. ON THE COUNTER. IN FRONT OF THE MANAGER. JUST TAKE MEEE
My body is being held together with whiskey, nicotine, duct tape and a little bit of hope...
there's no excuse to just assume your pants won't be coming off for some reason or another. that's just irresponsible
Stop calling dibs on everything with a vagina you jackass.
That should be the title of my autobiography.
We go out, we get drunk, we watch Star Wars, we pass out. What's wrong with this tradition?
Listen, dont tell me about your day or that your mom is in town. Don't ask me to drive you to the airport or proofread your paper. Text me when and only when you have a boner. Oh and take your pants off and leave your front door unlocked because I'm coming over.
Indeed. If boner pill commercials have taught us anything, it's the importance of waiting until the moment is right.
Where else would I get life advice?
Chasing my kid around a 30' jungle gym was not how I envisioned spending the day off work to recover from a vasectomy.
It's a long story, but I accidentally peed on my dog. I'll tell you about it tomorrow, and we shall never tell my wife.
the police dropped me off. that's how my night went.
Randomize
