Dear everyone that texted me last night wondering where i was. i ended up face down blacked up drunk before i made it to the party. My bad
i have accomplished my summer goal of being able to relate to every taylor swift song
either way he was missing a nipple.
why oh why did i suck thise tits. nothing but trouble fuuuuuu
he said something along the lines of "fish can smell fear"
I'm skyping with my parents and reading Cosmo articles on giving great head. I'm on a roller coaster that only goes up, baby.
Every time you blow me I should make a paper crane and we'll make them into a chain and hang them from the ceiling. And then whenever we have people over and they ask what the cranes are for I'll say "reminders" and wink at you.
You climbed on top of the bar, shotgunned a 25oz fosters and screamed, Steve Irwin was a God amongst men.
Then he started caressing my eye brow. Like repetedly. For at least 15 minutes. It was strangely mesmerizing
I will expect an hourly check text to confirm you are alive and that you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere with a hobo dry humping your corpse
I told him I was going to sit on his face after I got out of the shower, he threw up the arm boners and yelled "STEVE HOLT!!" I might actually stop sleeping with other dudes.
Welcome to Missouri, the show me your genitals state.
8 stitches. Next time I decide to twerk while doing a keg stand, stop me.
Road head absolutely translates. That's the beauty of road head... It's so portable!
you said it was a life or death situation, being your partner for beer pong doesn't count
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