I mean it's not my fault he had a floor mat that read "put out or get out". What was I supposed to do?
I think my uterus is still laying in your bed somewhere under the covers.
This is like the time you took a picture of your knees and told him it was your tits, isn't it?
My little brother just suggested we drink the rest of the vodka because it's raining. My job is complete.
I don't know if it was his cologne or his Jesus hair, but he was much more fuckable than last time I saw him.
Now that I think about it, it may have been the 6 pitchers of beer.
If only we could all 3 say fuck school to be stoner flight attendants
I'm very fluent in vodka, but that seems to be a whiskey dialect.
I definitely paid for a case and a fifth and all I got was 6 beers and a crown and coke. Wtf. Bar math sucks
So if you ever need to know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy that can put a 24oz beer can up his ass... Hit me up...