So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
I had to move some guys boxers out of the dryer. This is the closest I'll be getting to dick this month.
The worst part of it is that he's not the first man I've fucked with 2+ chihuahua's.
I dont want to tell you. Lets just say that a lot of things are reminding me of your dick right now
this blows. i told the guy at the bar that i was the DD and it was like i just announced over megaphone that i had genital herpes. no one will talk to me now.
I was informed last night that im not allowed to pick up the bouncers and carry them around anymore. Last sat is starting to make more sense
My vagina is not really on board with my "emotional issues"
My mom has finally acknowledged my soft spot for Russians. Finally.
I think he is probably a psycho that will eventually murder me but i mean the sex last time was AWESOME.
I'm putting you on my Emergency card so i can spend the last ounce of strength in my hospital bed to flip you off.
I feel like death crawled up inside me and died. That sick
I've been here 20 minutes and a sweaty naked man has kissed me on the cheek.
Afternoon delight is playing while I take a shit at mcdonalds
i woke up with blood and cuts on my face and i don't remember anything after winning four games of beer pong in a row last night. and i'm still drunk.
you are a true champion. bear my children.
I'm getting drunk off Malibu and watching Drag Race and it's only 2 in the afternoon. I'm the poster child for sad gay men.
Randomize
