Just woke up. I have a "Detective Jacob Arnold's" business card in my pocket.
Never have I ever before welcomed her period with such enthusiasm. She was starting to pick out baby names. She got me "What to Expect When You're Expecting."
Just saw Youth in Revolt. There are only so many times Michael Cera can lose his virginity.
Ask politely.
Fine. Can i please come over, hang out with you, sit around a campfire, smoke tree, listen to sublime, and fuck the shit out of you?
Thats good enough.
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
The amount I want to die right now is not proportionate to the level of fun I had last night. Not fair.
The best part is every argument that she makes from here on out will be refuted by "Oh hey remember that time you shit yourself wearing someone else's sweatpants at a frat party?"
The only thing I'm asking santa for is my period.
And vodka?
And vodka.
If I get there and all he has for my big valentines surprise is his body, I'm dumping his ass and posting his dirty pictures on a porn site so people can laugh at him.
I can't even express how horny I am. The English language isn't equipped for what I'm plotting.
I wouldn't say I LOVE Pacman. I mean, sure, I'd battle against you in an epic Pacman struggle for blow jobs and glory. But I mean, who wouldn't?
I just masterbated to the home shopping channel...what have I become...
Cooked. Eating pizza. Didn't have a napkin so I took my shirt off and I'm using it.
It feels weird going to sleep without hugging the toilet goodnight
So you realized he wasn't actually cheating on you and now you're trying to unfuck things. Or in this case unfuck Tom.
Randomize