dude, your ex-bf is on match.com
details on that.
well, his profile doesn't say anything about herpes.
i just google imaged poop.
if by 'bottleservice' you mean 'bringing beers in my purse' then yes, we are.
i cant remember past the part when we filled his tub with skittles.
He measures volume by how much weed he can put in it and surface area by how many people can have sex in it.
I woke up and there is a food processor in my purse. Someone else's framed family photo. My front door is wide open and my gerbil is playing in the water bong.
Yeah I'm going to bathe him.
I make your heart skip a beat like that pivotal moment when you open a public toilet lid
As I type I'm climbing my cousins swingset so I can take a nap inside the slide. Fuck this hangover. I always win.
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about lube and such, but why are we?
I probably should have waited until after the game to pity fuck him. You know, seeing as we lost.
She needs to go. She is like the Yoko Ono of our group.
So how exactly do I backtrack from motorboating and ass grabbing?
Your ability to eat ass like its your job and yet turn down quinoa because it's "gross" is confusing.
Well statistically J has a 1 in 3 chance of hospitalization when downtown
And a 3 for 3 for disapeearing
We told the cop that we were playing soccer, in flip flops, and 2:30 in the morning. It was raining and i had board shorts on. He bought it, lets go get drunk
Randomize
