Everytime I think about NYE, my gag reflex kicks in.
I just found a beer pong ball in my mail box. I think its a sign
i just feel like it would be irresponsible for you to not have sex with me again.
My vagina agrees.
I can't wait to go to grad school so I am not your high unemployed friend.
We're going to shave my junk and take pictures of it wearing fake mustaches we found at the dollar store. They're uncannily realistic; much better than the cockstaches of my youth.
I'm actually not sure I need to run today, between the crazy monkey sex and breaking into my own house.
He wants to buy me a drink to apologize for sending me a pic of his dick. Welcome to my life.
If my neighbors have super loud sex again tonight, I'm going to leave a ball-gag and roll of duct tape in their mail slot.
Yeah I'm just gonna shower and drink a gallon of coffee and drunkenly write my research paper. It'll be fine
I put purple lights under my bed and asked him if he wanted to fuck in a spaceship.
It's not even 8:30a, wine glass is broken, there's sugar everywhere, and your mom just asked me what MILF means.
Your heart isn't making stupid decisions... your penis is outsmarting your brain. Stop fucking her!
All I want is to get shitfaced and fuck random strangers is that really to much to ask?
If the multiverse is real, would you screw yourself? I'd screw myself.
She was blacked out at her own party. It felt good to stand next to her while she laid on the floor and say "vomit does not look good on you."
Randomize
