my "about me" section on Facebook should read "hell-bound alcoholic who wants to fuck a 40-year-old crackhead"
all I remember was being half naked drinking water on my hands and knees from her dogs water bowl.
Single schmingle. No one actually obeys the relationship boundaries these days. Its 2009.
The question is do I invite my fuck buddy to my graduation party now that my girfriend found out about her?
He's cheating on his wife, and he's judging me for eating McDonalds
sorry for the naked aussie man in your room last night, he got lost on his way to the bathroom
Day #3 of being the only sober person at the bar. This is depression.
So I vote that we skip the bowling and just go straight to destroying our livers.
I'm sure you're still partially crippled from thar blow job on Saturday, so I understand it's probably difficult to text.
I arrived home at 7am wearing nothing but my underwear and a fedora. I ate half a dozen deviled eggs. Put Katy Perry on repeat. And cried myself to sleep. We cannot go out on Thursday anymore
And then she sprinted three blocks through live traffic towards McDonalds screaming "THE GOLDEN ARCHES ARE CALLING ME"
I like her because we want the same things out of life AND she actually wants to have sex with me.
I'm a girl who met my last three bfs in gay clubs. Think I'm doing something wrong?
I hate when pubes grow back. My mons is a warzone.
I need you to sex the hangover out of me again.
Randomize
