This is awkward. You have a four minute voicemail from me. I would delete it. I accidently hit your number on speed dial and called you while I was vomiting a mai tai.
It's like Facebook knows when I'm about to masturbate and tells me to reconnect with exes.
I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
You've got more to offer than just money. Come on. You have an awesome rack.
You threw up on yourself, then proceeded to tell us "to not make a mess in your car"
we drunkly made out in the middle of the street beside the homeless guy playing the flute. Not how I imagined our first kiss.
We got the possum out of our house. We built a maze with our empty kegs and chased it with brooms.
Just so we're clear this time around: This is dinner with my FAMILY. Not an opportunity for you to drink too much, and use the word "dick-thumpin" in casual conversation.
Is adulthood just morning sex and then walking through the grocery store 20 min later looking for something to take to work for lunch?
...and then running into your dad at said grocery store...
At what point in life does one make the conscious decision to incorporate capes into everyday life? Like, as a fashion statement?
I'm not sure how to answer that. Is it a general question or one you're wondering about for yourself? Because I don't think you're there yet.
My gynecologist got a full view of the obviously bite marked shaped bruises on my thighs. I just kept talking about work and hoped she wouldn't judge me.
Dudes don't just lick butts of chicks they're not into.
Science requires me to take a picture of your nipples.
I'm glad I date someone who likes the simple things. Sex, kittens, and McDonald's.
He has a bear rug in his room. I'm going to ask if we can have sex on it. Wilderness sex.
Randomize
