You litterally reached into some girls shirt, pulled out her tit and yelled whats up with this guy.
Call me back. I want to hear your side of the dead cat in my garage story.
Apparently he doesn't remember leaving the bar
If I spent $100 at the bar and didn't get laid I wouldn't want to remember anything either
I am drunk as shit eating pancakes. I am not the person to call.
I have discovered that there is nothing that a giant penis attached to a southern accent can't talk me into. yee-haw!
oh come on since when have relationships been boundary lines for us
fair point
Jsyk, in serious talks of trading blowjobs for soup in bed. I'm sober
Oh and no more ball pics to my family. Got in a little trouble over that. They have no sense of humor.
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
yeah, I'm getting gagged by the cock of fate
It took years to build this empire of casual fuckings and not carings.
Like I owe him sex. Hell fucking no. I owe myself sex. With a celebrity. Or a clean pornstar. Who knows.
You’ll lick BBQ off my cock but no ketchup on a hotdog?
Just FYI: if you happen to notice a liquid of some sort on my kitchen counter with an interesting color/ texture, don't taste it
Yeah, let's go with that. Fuck that weak moment of complete honesty I just had.
Randomize
