Dude love is like an itch. You fuckin scratch it, then it itches more, then you scratch it and it itches more, and before you know it, there is semen everywhere.
you are insane
dude we gotta go shopping. I made pancakes this afternoon and used them as sandwich bread.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
I wish my dick could take responsibilities for his own actions
I'm not going to need your "it doesn't mean you're a slut" pep talk after all.
woke up this morning in the hall outside of my parents room with a sign taped to myself that said "im sorry"...
Well, there are worse ways to make $50 at a gay club.
The bartender from Thursday remembered me... And gave me a FLAMING BUCKET of alcohol.
it wasnt even considered partying. it was like "ok, who can get the most shitfaced and not pass out"
And the cockring thing wasn't sexual.
I think I'm crying more because after all these years he never learned to spell you or use a comma properly from me
get your sex hands out of my capn crunch
It was like sex on an active volcano surrounded by the night sky and bloodhounds. And by that I mean it was nice.
the fact that you beer bonged rum made me so proud, the fact that you threw up an entire footlong tuna melt after... not so much babe
I am so so sorry I bit your butt last night. Twice.
Randomize
