if you are receiving this text, you are one of the people i hate
the last three girls i tried to get with all believed in abstinence... i think gods trying to keep me from being a father
i think girls just don't want to fuck you
i like being sick. whatever the doctor gave me is awesone. the walls are waving at me. i never want to get better.
4 to the list in one week. Slutsville isn't as fun as the brochure promised.
Remind me again why sleeping with a coworker and his wife would be a terrible idea.
I have so many hands. So. Many. Hands. I can feel arms that I don't have yet. They tickle. I can see the blood in my eyes. I think something is happening. The hands!!! I'm ticking myself with hands I don't have yet! I can't stop giggling about my notyet hands!
You know how I got mad at him for making out with his formal date? Apparently I fucked mine. I'm guessing any exclusivity is out of the question.
He's single. I'm single. We should rekindle our eighth grade romance over a box of wine and carefree sex.
Currently behind the bar at some asian place, pouring drinks for everyone with a snake around my neck
I think I'm allergic to vodka. Or people getting engaged. One or the other. I want to die.
I don't want to ruin date night, but you have no idea how hard it is to poop whilst looking at cute puppies.
My phone autocorrects "pooping" to "popping" and I'm like DO YOU EVEN KNOW ME??!
Acid king. Jackson puked a lot. Promoter booth. Angry security. No acid. Probably a good thing.
He screamed like a woman when he came then proceeded to sing "you [we] are the champion" by Queen. I think I'm in love.
my roomie eats chipotle far too often. when i was looking for a bag to throw up in I had my choice of a wlamart bag and 10 chipotle bags
Randomize
