M and I are hungry and we are making your pizza in the fridge. But you're having sex and we're not so we dont feel bad.
she really just asked how mermaids reproduce.
I thought his dick was headless. then I pulled back the foreskin.
he likes to slap my ass alot untill he missed and hit his own balls poor bastard kept on going.
Turned out the thing on the lampshade was a bloodstain, not a bedbug. We feel much safer now.
One fish gets drugged and suddenly I'm labeled a bad pet owner. This is so unfair.
There were gay boys and a jukebox. It was like god wanted me to.
You are the alcoholic guardian angel of raccoons
We should give each other good-luck-on-your-finals head in the morning.
Need to spend sober time with him while fully clothed. I can't decide if he's a seriously amazing man or a complete fucking dickbag.
This is me not judging you for what a fine line you draw between the two.
Getting "I couldn't find the front door so I climbed in through window" drunk seems to be a habit of yours
how I know last night was a good night: this morning I found a bottle of tapatio, a bag of chicken and a bag of popcorn in my purse.
He's gonna do me a solid for doing her a solid. It's like pay it foward. But with sex.
I refuse to go to a doctor for a sex injury, not when I've come so far already
I did not get pleasing results from googling “Bob Ross goat”
Randomize
