We walked past a group of guys in front of a bar last night and they claimed, I quote: Wow, we'd actually have to work for that.
I'd do that. But we would need storm trooper helmets.
yeah. and then it was like the room of requirement. the elevator just opened for our threesome.
I have left a significant number of teethmarks in my prhone. My mouth tastes like tequila and cheddar. Tomorrow already feels fun.
my life is in even more shambles than last time, mcdonalds is closed
keep an eye on me. i'm afraid that after a few more drinks i'll ask to borrow his wheelchair.
his life revolves around getting high and answering people on yahoo answers. he's perfect for you.
When his Irish accent comes out my uterus hums. Or some productive organ down there, I'm not sure of the logistics
I woke up smelling like chlorine with a broke toe. They know how to fucking party on lake lanier.
I feel like I got ass raped in the brain.
Is "when in doubt date the guy with the bigger dick" a good philosophy?
The security deposit's gone, let's trash this motherfucker
you threw me on the ground pryed my purse out of my hands screaming " I JUST WANNA HOLD IT A LITTLE BIT". later i found you putting on my lip gloss.
"Yeah because the first thing I think of when I hear the word college is tear gas."
so, in conclusion, I think his gf found out about the booty pics
you can't just call dibs on my vagina bro.
Randomize
