Where is the hickey?
Well, I just hope you know I had your best interests at heart when I put your sandwich down my pants.
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
let's just pour the lemonade mix into the soco. cut out the middle man.
I DON'T CARE LET'S GET DRUNK AND GO. I STRAIGHTENED MY HAIR DO THIS FOR ME.
I was at that stage of drunk where it seemed appropriate to just make out with everyone. As like a greeting.
I hear you
I got drunk enough that when camel suggested jumping off the pier, I thought it was a fantastic plan. Also my blood hurts.
I'd like to stay optimistic, but I have this nagging suspicion my penis is in for a disappointing holiday weekend.
I plan on just grabbing someone's dick if I have to. They will know what's up. Why else do you go to a bar alone on valentines day?
Technically ya I did. Hes tried to get down my pants like 3 times now and every time I have been all "these are not the Droids you are looking for"
I imagine my service panda will provide sufficient protection. At the very least it will be an irresistible cuddly distraction while I make good my escape.
True friendship: When you can hold your best friend's hair and still eat your Stromboli at the same time.
I just want to meet a nice normal guy that doesn't want me to taze him while we have sex. . . . .is that too much to ask for?
Lucky bitch I'm at work covered in Jeff pee. And my hair smells like beer because I was trying to prove a point about PBR serving multiple purposes.
The hump and dump is a beautiful thing
Randomize