just wrote on a church. and then stalked a boy, by the way, i fucked him. him being your friend, also, love tacos.
so apparently i worked out for over an hour last night. drinking is the only way i will ever get anything done
I just hotboxed my laundry basket.
I don't think I can handle being a slut. There is a lot more emotional stress that I never realized.
You can come over, sure. But I'll be watching college hockey during the blow job.
We left your bucket of puke on your doorstep to clean out yourself. You're welcome.
I stopped in the middle of puking to wish you a happy birthday, so by default it means a lot.
Ugh I just wanna make an announcement like: Attention high school classmates: if we haven't spoken in 5 years, we don't need to start now. Please be on your way
Like not in a "I wanna have sex with you way" more like a "I wanna cuddle your mustache way"
Not saying puking on the side of a cab was how I imagined freshman year of med school but...
I don't think tits should taste like fish.
I know this sounds fake but she's deep frying a bar of soap right now
Come fucking get her
How does one take the "you're the best sex I've ever had but I'm marrying someone that's sub-par in the sack" mind fuck?
I pity the fool.
Thanks Mr T.
I don't know how to explain to you that you tried to recreate the bit from the Dana Carvey show where a guy dressed as Bill Clinton breastfeeds a bunch of puppies
Just got your voicemail. The 3am call wasn't a drunk dial, it was an I left my phone in my pocket then has wild animalistic sex dial...
I hate you.
You LOVE me.
Randomize
