Is it sad I memorized the exact change required for a #7 at Wendy's?
The brown eye won't let me do that either.
It was all fun and games until Tim shit on the end table
day 8: i just gave goat a piece of pineapple soaked in rum. as an animal science major, im ashamed. as a normal person, it was awesome.
She alternated between blowing me and feeding me bites of the sandwich she made for me.
the paramedics asked what clubs id be in next weekend so they can plan ahead.
Instead of sending me a picture of his dick, he sent me a drawing of it on drawsomething. This game is getting out of control.
And I really REALLY don't feel like cleaning cinnamon off my penis tonight.
the other day i was so high i found pages and pages of pictures of HD hamburgers and patriotic music. bong rips for merica.
Also, I pretty much need an IV of fluids straight to my soul
I was told to keep my leg elevated. I assume it means to keep my legs on the air, it's like I was prescribed to be slutty
the reputation of my dick game is on the line. You're killing the team, here, G
so hungover i had to get off the train to puke, rallied and went to work. not sure if that's an adulting win or fail
sending my old camp counselor nudes. childhood memory win or new low?
The only good thing about being back at work is supply room boom boom with my office husband
Randomize
