My sheets at my parents place are clean. No braveheart but I can paint myself, yell "freedom", and sword fight you with my cock. So come over.
I am the master of subtle flirting. I seduced him by simulating a hand job with an epi-pen during training.
We were fucking on his hammock and right as he came we flipped over. I landed on him, he landed on a pile of pinecones. We're done with nature sex.
You were doing karaoke. Then you screamed "SHOUTOUT TO ADAM LAMBERT" and started making out with the very surprised looking guy next to you.
I was wondering if I fell or perhaps got hit by a truck, then I remembered, it's cause I did a splits contest at the bar
It's like the blind leading the senile over here.
UPDATE: shit just got real- grandma is threatening to beat grandpa with a wooden spoon covered in chili.
those kids just got delivered to the party by the pizza guy
Also, I want you to know, that not only am I apparently the expert on sexting. Our bishop is consulting me later. So my talents are varied.
our next stoner-chievment: cream of shroom soup. Get over here, this is happening!
I wanna fuck that hideous moustache right off your face. get the confetti ready for the festivities
All I know is I drank too much, danced too little.. yet somehow woke up on the floor in the arms of some cowboy.
Best ethics paper a stoner could write. I called my professor Dr. Superfly Arandia. And I'm pretty sure I used "respect the hustle" somewhere in there too.
So my flight takes off at 8am. Does this mean I need to break my airport bar pre-flight ritual?
Aren't you the one who taught me that airports are the judgement-free drinking zone?
Can u pick me up? Lost my keys.
Sure. FYI- you "lost" them on the roof, trying to throw them over the house.
I sent him a blank text because I didn't want to "drunk text" him.
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