Last night I got a napkin with 4 names & numbers: Katie, Ellen, Kylie...and Brandon.
Sorry if I ruined your sex last night with my constant text updates about the plot of Bolt.
No stds, not pregs, and lost two pounds. I'd call that a successful two years of grad school.
Apparently unused tampons can also double as things to bite down on during public sex to prevent screaming...
You're fine
I'm hiding in my chest because my walls smell weird. I'm not fine.
I'm beginning to think the only reason I get laid anymore is girls are fantasizing sleeping with my dad...
Explain it like you would if you were talking to a 5 yo
Wait no, like you would to a stoned high school freshman.
I'm dealing with this like an adult, cupcakes and beer.
I plan on having so much gay sex in our house while you gone.
I don't want a mention or even a whisper of a Shakespeare Festival by that or any other name including, but not limited to, a fucking Renaissance Fair. Are we clear? It will be a DEALBREAKER .
Life hack: hotbox while in the car wash. It'll change your life.
I checked her ID this morning. Lets just say...she's older than my mom
Next time I pee on a car, I'll text you.
How are you and your magical vagina doing today?
Can you send me the picture of me licking the cows udders?
Randomize
