I dreamt Michael Jackson dropped his pants in front of me and I had to ignore it.
I can't remember if we talked about feelings. Fuck you Miller High Life.
it actually wasnt that awkward...i planned on saying hello and walking away..then she asked if i wanted to go to lunch and i looked at her chest and said absolutely
No, we just ended up walking around in his pool high and singing songs by The Wiggles.
True Life: I puke at bars and try to catch it in my hand...then walk away like it didn't happen
you were crying because peter frampton wasnt your dad
i tried slipping money on her dresser whenever she brings guys home hoping she'll start to question her goals in life... i think its only encouraging her
you don't know true fear until you are a convinced that velociraptors are trying to kill you through your roof.
She insisted we fuck to Ludacris, not how I imagined popping her lesbian cherry would be. I tried delt and I liked it.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
You knocked on your freshman year room door, told the kids who opened it "I own you", and attempted to force-feed them everclear.
Like when I see him I look straight through his appearance and just envision a big walking penis.
Oh dear. If we're both hearing alien sounds then perhaps they're real.
Stop fucking Sharon's exes.
Sorry it took me so long to reply. I was fucking Sharon's ex.
I choose my mates solely based on size and ability. No cuddles. No sleep overs. Definitely no repeats.
Randomize
