It's like a parade of train wrecks.
The paper boy just woke me up in the front yard again.
I'm at the house listening to vengaboys alone. Please come home.
I gambled and lost. Had to pull into a funeral home to clean up with a copy of my resume.
He won't ever take me seriously if I keep getting drunk and hooking up with all his friends.
He just told me that he goes squirrel hunting. NO LONGER BANGABLE.
He told me i had to sleep under his bed. He said it would be my castle.
You are right. The scrape marks on her ass are from her breaking the doggy door by crawling through it.
Just keep my face away from hard objects. And by that I do not mean erect penised.... those are totally fine. It's more just things like rocks, table edges, blunt objects, etc so I don't get another concussion.
He motorboated me, gave me a business card that said congratulations on my motorboat, then disappeared into the night.
Find him and marry him.
I got slapped by a drag queen and bitten on the arm by either a random girl or a weird mouth shaped dog. Tough to tell without seeing the teeth
I encourage you to ignore feeling. Drinking more helps
His dick is a skeleton key. It fits everywhere.
This is why we can never be just regular friends. The shit we do is not regular
I don't want to be flamboyant (says the guy who bought a hot pink suit to be a flamingo for Halloween)--but I don't mind being a little extra.
Randomize
