So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
I think the recipie for awesome sauce is butter and semen
This is me reassuring you that I'm still alive and making sure you still are.
Februarys looking very promising in the vaginal department
I would've hung out with you if I had the capacity to do anything besides fall over and pee on things
The strip club incident sums up our friendship pretty well
You kept saying you only wanted to drink until you were sleepy. You succeeded if "sleepy" means you sleepied around with 4/6 of the guys there.
I can always see lesbian subplot. It's my hero ability.
In that state of mind I managed to bounce back from getting hit by a golf cart and convince an investigations officer that I was okay to go into the game.
The worst part about living in a small town is partying with your pharmacist and then having to buy Plan B from him the next morning.
So I'm texting her. How do I steer the conversation toward "I honestly would be fine never seeing you again"?
Do not tell guys at bars about kittens you rescue. They will walk away.
No way in hell. Unless I was drunk Tindering again....my swiping finger gets drunk too I guess
CODE RED CODE RED MY VIBRATOR IS BROKEN THIS IS NOT A DRILL
March Madness means a buffet of emotionally vulnerable dick at the bars almost every night. So yeah my vagina and I are big fans.
Randomize
