He came on my face and told me I looked like a gingerbread house.
I just found $40 in the jeans I wore last night. PS I also found the jeans I wore last night.
He snuck into some random hotel's continental breakfast at 3 AM and then passed out on a bench in the lobby. When the cops found him they made him empty out his pockets. No phone, no ID just muffins.
I knew it was different as soon as you told me you slept with him and didn't tell me about his dick
Don't be offended. I can't even stand sleeping next to my dildo after I'm done, let alone a whole person.
I got lit on fire and andy went to jail last night. Totally unrelated incidents though.
I'm sure me singing - rather loudly - "fuck me in the back seat" last night didn't help either.
And if I hated you I'd probably say things like, "I never want to speak to you again," or, "Eat a bag of dicks." That's how you'd know.
He passed out again after sex. I've hidden all his clothes. There's no way he is sneaking out in the morning this time!
This is America. Deny every slut accusation or own up to it
I don't care if he got kidnapped by a cult one time he is a dick
I fell off my bed and busted open my chin on the prisoner of azkaban. Somehow missed the almost empty Jose handle next to it. So guess what I was doing last night?
Our friendship just got weirder. He snapchated me the porn he was watching.
You are ridiculously similar to a unicorn, and I want to fuck that unicorn.
I think he may actually care that I call him slampiece instead of his real name. Who knew he had feelings?
Randomize
