Just spent the rest of my time at that bar trying to keep a probs underage closet gay from touching my kitten to prove he still likes girls.
fighting downstairs. join me tonight to hear their makeup sex. also, let's make skittles vodka.
bang him and never speak to him again. also, queef in his face.
i dont this its possible to queef on command.
There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
I'm scared. I feel like she's my mom and she just walked in on me having sex. Like she's "disappointed"
I feel that my census will not be the first census submitted soaked in beer
I cant even remember his name or what he looked like. all I remember is what the tattoo on his forearm looked like.
well, he kindof looked like a walmart greeter. I tried to stop you
Just when I thought this night couldn't get any worse, my dad sang and dedicated Sexual Healing to me at kareoke night.
He has a landing strip. I repeat he has shaven himself a landing strip. HELPPPP!
I remember halftime. Then I woke up in Spain. I need a drink in order to process this.
I showed up to a booty-call in my onesie pajamas and rubber boots
I am honestly trying to remember his name. All I can remember is that he had a weird mole, a daughter and a lot of cocaine. Please stop letting me pick up at gay night.
My serious response to your Cathy tattoo inquiry- Do you ever want to get laid by someone not wearing a Blossom style bucket hat? Tattoo accordingly.
For the first time in my 26 years of life, I'm washing jizz out of my ponytail.... High five yourself later.
I've come to realize that I need a break from life when I just tried to use my address numbers as the cook time on the microwave
Randomize
