I fucked **** last night, don't tell mike
this is mike. we're done.
you kept calling numbers in ur phone book and saying, "I love your show, I'm a long time listener, first time caller."
Calvin and Hobbes are double-teaming a butterfly. They're in the bathroom, and drawing a crowd.
As your boss, I feel obligated to tell you that turning our management meeting into a kegger may just be the best idea you've given me yet.
he said it was like fucking a big sack of slut potatoes
Having never done that before, When should one expect the horrible shame to end? Days, months, ever?
A week or so, depending on size. In your case, maybe give it a month.
And then we made magical love in his room under a blacklight as his roommate and girlfriend argued violently in the living room
That's why we don't trade sex for Taco Bell. It's called the dollar menu.
I still have beer shits from last weekend. Dying from dysentary is a real threat at this point.
I woke up while eating peanut butter from a jar. I don't think I should be social today.
Anyway, it's clearly a shapeshifting vagina/AT-AT, which I never said I was SEXUALLY attracted to. Just that I liked it.
I don't care. She's the only girl to make me feel like my face is melting when she blows me.
Why do pants feel so unnatural once you enter your own house
I guess I asked for the two old strippers numbers at the end of the bar and it turned out to be the bartenders mom and aunt...
Some nights you do cocaine till 5:00 in the morning, and the next night you teach yourself how to crochet. It’s called balance.
Randomize
