your butthole totally puckers for the ginge
four days late. damn you, makeup sex. you win again.
i'm sitting in the library realizing that the 2 most productive things i did this weekend was have sex and go to the liquor store...
If you weren't supposed to have sex with your ex then they wouldn't rhyme.
You were plastered and wouldn't stop telling this hot girl about your plan to graffiti a church in easter colored spray-paint saying that Jesus was a Zombie... she kept saying her father was a pastor...
i walked in and you were spoon feeding your sister grape juice out of a tupperware.
He tried to use a signal flare to light the bong
And?
He melted the stem
He was all like, "I think ur the one that got away and I miss you." I replied, "I gave u a hand job once in your hot tub. No need to wax nostalgic about it."
You don't have a penis so I'm not texting you at this hour. This is penis texting hour only.
My god this is going to ruin whatever Vegas left of our souls...
it's like I can see my whorish nature reflected back at me in his wedding ring.
Not yoga, whiskey. Totally mis-typed whiskey.
We're taking a shot every time Landon Donovan takes a shot. It's clever, sort of.
I was just trying to be a good friend but in retrospect I probably shouldn't have pepper sprayed you.
The sex was so good I feel like I could run a triathlon, hit big at the casino, and defeat ISIS.
Randomize
