I would drag my balls through a mile of broken glass to eat pudding out of her anus
in the middle of sex he stopped to tell me that he loved me... then slapped my ass and told me "back to business"... im gonna marry him
It was not a dingleberry, it was a dinglemelon
duuuude. vodka popsicles DO NOT function.
he fucked me so hard my future children felt it
so when we were booking the hotel and plane tickets for vegas we reserved a chapel for someone, it's inevitable.
This is going to be another afternoon spent getting drunk in the shower, isn't it?
okay just a general question, but if i got arrested, who here would bail me out. this is important.
him being a republican bothers me way more than his coke problem.
When i'm home next we need to get baked and go to waffle house. I want to see if the waitress can still guess my intoxication level and what i'm about to order before i even make it to the table.
So nowhere in the dress code does it forbid me from showing up to City Hall in a gorilla suit to meet the mayor.
It's like the bat signal. He only texts me when I'm naked.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm a little scared.
Good. The Jell-O shots look great.
Remind me to tell you: When threeways go awry, my MLK weekend story.
can we do this tomorrow? ...i accidently got high.
Randomize
