I spent an hour trying to convert bar outfits to church outfits. Its hard.
Maybe the downfall to liking really smart guys is that they're to smart to think about sex all the time.
You know what my problem is? I'm like a machine designed for the sole intention of removing the pants from damaged girls.
You got pulled on stage by a stripper who wore ruffled ankle socks and did jumping jacks for her dance. Then you were put in a chokehold by a security guard that almost cried because you supposedly said "fuck you!" to him.
All I see when I think of you are dancing penis angels around your head.
He hasn't touched a vagina in two and a half years. THIS IS WAY TOO MUCH PRESSURE TO BE UNDER
I have someone saved in my phone as "This Hoe Ain'tit' Loyal" and I'm missing my superman boxers. Explain.
Nobody feels the need to text me back. Men. And I sent myself a message saying nakedness. I'm all the man I need.
Every time you mention the threesome around him I will high five you. Do what you will with this information.
I found a hot kiwi last time and sucked his dick. That's what rooftop bars are made for.
Just wanted to share my unfortunate vagina news in the hopes that it would make your vagina feel better about itself.
I'm in my math teacher's garage hiding right now because I fucked his son last night. It's fine
That was a beautiful concert to sleep through ...
I know - Don't let me take drugs from strangers anymore
I skipped the handshake and went right for a dickshake I had him minutes after I saw him.
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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