Well, let's be honest here. You're dealing with gay guys... EVERYTHING has an emotional attachment.
I heard porn and smelled bacon cooking. I knew you had to be home.
As soon as he lost the election, the reception's open bar became a cash bar. I have never been so disappointed in my countrymen.
He kept coming back from the bar with hotter girls and just left with two...I feel like I just witnessed something amaZing. Like meeting Jesus and finding out he has no morals either
well that explains the french fry and ketchup packet rolled into the wasitband of my sweats. thank you drunk me.
Just fucking put out. It'll be a good lay, promise. Stop being a prude. Damn it. A boy is trying to put his penis in you. APPRECIATE IT.
I can't find my underwear or one of my shoes but he baked me cookies for breakfast.
I'll give you $10 to get a dick pic with a gecko on it.
Real reason I can't work: it's Tuesday. I get stoned and watch buck Rodgers in Tuesday.
Jesus Christ you're perfect.
Final Summary: could he eat a lit sparkler? Probably. Could he do it while peeing off the roof? I'll tell you when you get to the ER.
I saw a picture of a baby and it reminded me to take my birth control. Priorities
You know the rule about how you feel bad for getting food and not offering other people you're around, does that apply when you eat burger king at a strip club?
But being sober is boring. Everything takes so long, I feel like I'm just waiting in line to die.
I realized my soar muscles form the shape of me leaning over a toilet
Totes just ripped ass and the bartender's eyes got wet
Randomize
