Who would have guessed that ordering a vodka lemonade at Roscoe's was code for I want a hand job
there should be a rule- if you jizz on it, you wash it
you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
He came on me while singing crank dat like soulja boy, fuck our sex life has reached a whole new level of low
he used his one phone call on me and it said "you have a collect call from- LETS GET IT- at the montgomery county jail".
I know the scar will be in an obvious place, that's why I'm certain it'll score me cancer blowjobs
with your flexibility, and the size of my penis, amazing things are possible.
Pretty sure I just shit out pure stomach acid. I'll explain after you take me to a hospital
I swear to God, if you drunkenly correct my grammar one more time, I'm cutting you off.
I like how our relationship transcends the borders of inappropriateness and encompasses all the colors of the inappropriate rainbow.
Apparently he got pepper spray on his dick. So he's a literal fire crotch.
What happened last night dude?
YOU SHIT ON MY FUCKING COFFE TABLE THATS WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED!!!
Be there in 20. Want icecream?
sex. I want sex. I like where your heads at though.
Woke up in a house I don't know, with someone else's pants on, and wolverine hair, to my girlfriend yelling on the phone about the 4 girls I made out with last
He ate me out in the warehouse on a pallet of sunlight soap. I fucking love night shift!
Randomize
