Probably should plan this out. Step one: grow stache. Two: get trenchcoat. Three: Kidnap Selena Gomez.
I had better be fucking involved with step four.
I feel like i made up for not being able to drink on St Pattys Day, Mardi Gras, and last years Cinco De Mayo. That hungover.
Still can't believe they give people like us a drivers license and college degree.
come find me. Outside the bar we were just in waving my syringe in the air
Update: I only have one shoe. The other one now belongs to the gods of jello-wrestling. May it rest in peace.
She told me my dick looked like a baby seal wrapped in a sleeping bag.
I woke up and he used my makeup to write "hope you don't get pregnant" on my mirror before he left
After some trial and error I found soaking my balls in maple syurip helps ease the pain.
I found a bag of weed while packing. Now packing is like creating tiny universes inside of boxes.
You're wrong. It's my BIRTHDAY. We all know it's impossible to get pregnant on my diva day!
I think I'm making a tradition of going to every funeral with at least one sex-related bruise. I don't know how this happened.
Dear Jesus. Send me strength to not suck cock this morning.
In my next life I better get to be a bird. Fuck flying. I'm gonna shit on your car. Every. Day.
I sent a picture of my balls to one of my best friends, so basically it was an average night.
I have had flashes of 69ing, a strawberry flavored condom and begging him to sleep naked.
Randomize
