Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
On this egg donor form, it asks "In the past 5 years, have you had sex for drugs or money?" It only gives a yes or no option and no place to explain myself. What do I do?
mom asked me why i'm never sober at family events, i told her i learned it from her.
answer the phone. i thought i was eating cheese but it was butter. i ate a lot of it.
Are you really this nice or are you just trying to get in my pants?
Both?
Im about to shotgun a beer using my mother's knitting needles. home sweet home.
Yes, that was ME getting carried out of the club singing 'i believe i can fly'
idk. I was on the deck with Dominic and i felt something weird on my arm. I looked down and you were licking my elbow.
I've hit an all time low of asking baristas what would go good with marshmallow vodka. I think I might hire one to party with all of us. To make hangover drinks
I feel like my nipples were chewed on by alligators.
I may have to marry her. She is smarter than me and has a six figure job and doesn't want to have kids. All I have to be is a trophy husband.
Nearly got hit by a blue bell ice cream truck. Can I count on you to make plenty of puns like "her life was sweet, and so was her death" at my funeral if that was to happen?
According to the arrest report, I shouted "no, YOU put some pants on" at the cop. Downhill from there.
my vagina can't handle any more of our 4 day long smash bash. it should be like a holiday or something. should only happen once a year.
I woke up to pee last night, got out of bed and proceeded to stand there because I had no idea where I was. Then, I heard my sexy as fuck personal trainers voice. Well-played blacked out me.
Randomize
