the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
Don't worry about later. I already pre-ordered a pizza for a 1:45 delivery and told them to ignore any calls from your number.
You're getting good at this, you know that?
Guess who is high enough to buy Jingle All The Way?
Apparently last night drunk me put my phone in a cup of beer to make it "fun scented".
Sorry for my penis texting you last night, I can't control what he wants at 4am.
I have to cancel. My sons dad is out of jail unexpectedly and i'm kinda an emotional wreck. P.s. This is not the life I dreamed of as a little girl.
My grandmother cheats at beer pong and has been rubbing her tainted victory in my face for an hour now.
You're the only person I know who could blow literal chunks, laugh about it, then proceed to shotgun another beer. Love you champ.
He burnt his arm on the grill, then turned around and started blaming it on the burger buns...I think it's safe to say he's drunk.
Before we rave about the healing powers of your penis, remember it nearly killed me as well.
Chose not to courtesy flush and the CEO huffed the result. I feel powerful.
My pants zipper is stuck halfway down. I have to interview an intern later. This day is gonna be amazing,
I think I almost ran over some kid I went to high school with. Guilt factor: moderate to low.
You went to pound town last night and chow town this morning. Boy you need a passport.
Pooping to opera.
Randomize
