I just saw the pics of me from the costume party as Party Boy. I've effectively cock-blocked myself forever.
There is a bruise on my cock the size of a golfball. Bad sign.
Life lesson today, a six foot hot guy I meet at a party CANNOT fit on my bike with me.
Also, my drunkenly packed sleepover kit consisted of a singular sock, my uncharged laptop, and a pack of post-it notes.
Even her dad came up for the body shots. Wasn't sure what to do so I just laid there and let it happen...
I think you're going to have to drive me to white haven. I don't know if my brain can handle having my mom drop me off at a strip club.
Well despite the fact that I'm still not entirely sure this isn't an elaborate/cunning plan to kill me, I'm in.
You wanna know how bad I feel? I couldn't get out of bed to get the remote, so I just downloaded the comcast app on my phone so I could change the channels
I hope to God it's not the new neighbors having sex, because what I'm hearing sounds like a mildly defective vuvuzela or a cow giving birth.
The fact that it neither of us came up with the reason of "it's morally and ethically wrong" speaks volumes about this relationship
Are there edibles for sale in the Denver airport because if so bring those to my mouth
I told him you're making deviled eggs for the party. Sisters make deviled eggs to get their sisters laid. It's science.
Just because I also want a blowjob doesn't mean I don't want to just see you too.
I don't know what she did to me last night, but the scratches on my back indicate that I had sex with a Bengal tiger last night.
I have blood and BBQ sauce all over my shirt. I blame you for the blood.
Randomize
