The good thing about walking home in a dress on sunday morning is that people mistake my walk of shame as a walk to God.
When I came in she was screaming "boundaries!" at the cat because it was trying to eat her pizza rolls.
Also I'm 95 percent positive we ate food naked together
i'm gonna start fucking more girls with asthma. help feed my ego.
I wasn't so much your wingman at that point as I was the interpreter of you point at shit and mumbling to the cab driver.
The last thing I remember is teaching our waffle house waitress to do the stanky leg and promising the grill cook we would come see him at his other job.
My vagina loves me do-dah do-dah my vagina loves me do-dah do-dah
I picture you throwing your vagina around in the same fashion that they pass out candy at a parade.
Lol what? Monday night impromptu acid drop was the alternative.
I'm 50% okay with that amount of body contact... plus/minus 7% based on where blood may flow.
I think I just wanna go buy some jack at the liquor store, come home, take my pants off, and not give a shit about stuff
I left her alone for a few minutes and she's already using a guy on his hands and knees as a chair while another guy is serving her margaritas.
He just stays over and makes naked pancakes in the morning
I sense naked hashbrown eating in my near future.
Egg rolls and cum. Not my worst snack.
UPDATE: THERE IS ASS EATING. I REPEAT: THERE IS ASS EATING.
Randomize
