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.
She has a concussion we think. Dancing to barbie girl.
slowly transforming into a stationary lump of steel. how can you tell me that was JUST weed
In all seriousness, if tomorrow night becomes a heated game of Which Ex Gets To Take The Plastered Birthday Girl Home, I'm going to bow out with my integrity intact.
Hey if there is a better reason to go drink then "I've been fucking robbed!" I have yet to hear one. Also, I've been fucking robbed.
And they were awkwardly all over each other in a Christian way.
Life is too short to have fake orgasms.
a pizza costume came into my possession last night. needless to say i showed up to his house wearing only the pizza, shouting "delivery" into his window.
And as the acid sets in, he looks back at the shallow form he used to call his and whispers "3 pee pees strong"
I'd rather have snapchat than feelings.
I chatted up the pastor's son on Grindr during the service. Still ridiculing my decision to go to church this morning?
His weed is so good that I don't wanna risk loosing him as my weed man so I plan to keep him in the friend zone 😂
How was your night?
Fell down a flight of stairs. Went to a sex dungeon. Was approached by a man in a leather harness.
Plus my parents would be pissed if I spent Thanksgiving in jail... again.
I forgot to bring soap and all I could find here was body wash. It's like bathing with laundry detergent.
Randomize
