So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
a strip club that doesn't allow touching or asking for sex... whats the point?
unless her vagina can tell me my horoscope in sign language, I'm not going.
I have one thing to say: spongebath.
I wish that wasn't all you had to say. And by that, I mean I wish you hadn't said that at all.
how do you wash the taste of whore out of your mouth?
No, dude. Even Jesus hates Creed.
Oh my god it's like Minesweeper. I can tell there's sex in three of the four rooms, but which one is the safe one?
I think you'll appreciae more than anyone that I'm renting my parking spot out for a half gallon of vodka a month.
I still love him regardless of his misguided forays into heterosexuality
I knew it was on when he was dancing on stage and I gave him a dollar so in return he ripped my tit out of my shirt and started sucking on it IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BAR.
I mean you can't really blame him. He's named after whiskey and I don't get along with pants.
No, the moral of my Oxford interview was "Never snort caffeine pills".
I tried to twerk on a barn in 3 inch heels at a party last night and nose dived into mud. These were all new friends. I'm probably not allowed back. Cool.
If I had a dollar for every functioning brain cell you had I would owe someone a lot of money
If I slept with her my dick would come out glittery
coward.
How do you confess that you've had phone sex with your fiancé's brother's ex-girlfriend's new guy she's dating who has also slept with your best friend?
Randomize
