I have fifteen cents in cash and 80 cents in the bank. BUT I have weed.
all he has to do is look at me on new years and hes getting laid. thats how hot he is
and now her best friend is massaging my table under the leg. this may not end well.
we're like Indians of the 21st century. trading not for food and survival but personal gain and by trouble you mean getting daytime drunk and going to the roller ring then yes.
I can't talk to her. I know entirely too much about her genitals to hold a conversation without mentioning them.
I think making out with someone could be the cure to all my problems. That or more cowbell.
Also, any YOLOwl-related sex photos will result in you winning ten orgasms, courtesy of myself, as well as sweets and bacon-based dinner. All entrants welcome
This day sucks. I just wanna play ostrich and bury my head in your boobs.
So did he inherit the massive family cock?
:(
Let's fuck under the stars. And by under the stars I mean in my bed underneath my glow in the dark star stickers.
I ate breakfast with him. And by ate breakfast I mean we fucked on the kitchen table.
I wish I had a Tina from Bob's Burgers in real life. She would be the best wingman.
If so I'm coming over there. There's no way I'm having "hello, how are you" conversations with my neighbors on acid
you were huddled over the toilet, throwing up, and every few seconds you'd look up and say "this is such a waste of vodka" then put your head back down and start puking again
If there's one thing I think I could really excel it, it's curating a midlife crisis
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