The whole way homeyou were flapping your arms up and down, and when I asked why you said you were trying to tell Tony Danza about the angels.
Puked in a cab. Passed out on my floor an my mom put a blanket over me. Home by 1045. I won shitshow trophy last night.
Apparently 151 is to me what spinach is to popeye.
new level of vanity: sex dreams about deep throating myself...
Dude you can't just initiate a threesome via twitter
1. my parents still have sex. 2. being a screamer runs in the family. 3. so much so that i can tell what number of orgasms she's on. 4.so looks like i'm stuck outside a while
Can't show you right now as we are in public and he refuses to let me photograph his penis in a bar.
I just found a GIANT thermos of sangria in my sink. I don't know if its still good to drink, but its good to drink.
Well, love is in the air. And by that I mean: it seriously smells like sex in here.
You need to stop blackout tweeting at him to have sex with you on the roof of your dorm. He doesn't even have a twitter.
Why can't I live in a world where my only 2 options are rum bikini hot tub party or masturbating?
You're on Grindr at the STD clinic. I love you.
Car is still out of commission. Looks like it's Grape Nuts and scotch for dinner.
I feel like I should acknowledge that I see you as a human and not a ragdoll sex object
You think you can just send me a picture of your dick and everything will be ok?
Yep.
Randomize
