I'm sorry I didn't make it out, I got distracted by sparkley boobies.
Just realized my talking to the tv hockey voice is same as my sex voice. Life just got a whole lot weirder.
If we could never, ever tell mike i pissed in his closet, that would be really really great
Just picture a dyson vacuum with razor blades. That's how it felt.
You. Me. A bottle of Vodka. The wilderness.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
So basically, I've just woken up in another random bed and I go to get my pants and he's wearing them. Like my underwear is in them... What the fuck is wrong with my life?
His cat kept scratching my feet while we were having sex. There's only room for one pussy around here. It also concerns me that he owns a cat.
OH MY GOD! I CAN FEEL A PULSE IN MY BALLS IT HURTS! ITS LIKE MINI FEMINIST NINJAS ARE ATTACKING MY BALLS!!!
just remember the most important rule of taking psychedelics: monsters can't get through blankets
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
That was when I yelled "Wisconsin powers activate!" and took off sprinting across the ice
I'm planning our wedding on the computer and our threesome on my phone. At the same time.
Every time Brady gets sacked I cum a little...
I might have to quit marching band. It's affecting my drinking schedule
Randomize
