You know, sometimes I seriously doubt your commitment to sparkle motion.
There is no point in being painfully greyhound thin if you are then going to dress like it's raining in 1992.
I walked into his living room and saw him watching the play-offs while eating tomato paste out of the can with a bottle of wine. I'm telling you to stop talking to him. now.
You'll be the guy with the raft that sells burritos on the river. You'd be legendary.
Oh and probably wearing a life jacket instead of clothes didn't help things either
I just want to have weird supply closet sex with him... and then I'll be all set. Fired, but all set.
High enough to ask the woman at best buy if she ever feels like she's swimming. and telling the man outside that he smells like happy juice.
Mixed review. I fucked her in the river, but then we were assaulted by ducks.
It was weird, because he kept shaking his head like he was motorboating me...but on my vagina.
Technically, I traded a soft pretzel for sex last night...
I walked into my room last night at 4 am and there's a random dude in his boxers eating oatmeal on my futon. I looked at him and went to bed
Wake up. Finish House of Cards. Put on pants.
Accurate.
At one point I was convinced he was a snake and was going to eat me And I just accepted it
She rode me wearing nothing but a Santa hat. Merriest fucking Christmas!
It seems that I didn’t convey clearly enough how well and truly fucked we are, Jack. Listen to me very closely: we are DEAD.
Randomize