Get out...Run...Or there's going to be a dick in your mailbox
I just found blacked-out interviews on my voice recorder. Go journalism.
Puked in the hotel lobby and just kept walking. I love mardi GRAS.
I am more familiar with your toilet than I ever want to be with any appliance
Glad to know I rate above a cabbage on the parenting scale.
PA to anyone at the party last night and wondering where your pants are: they are in my backyard.
Well she started to strip and when she slung her hair at me, she painted my face with sweat. A LOT OF SWEAT. It was a weird boner.
Pretend you're in a taco. That always helps me sleep.
My liver needs the occasional pep talk and a reminder that we are two weeks into freshman year of college.
There aren't enough words in the English language to fully describe how worried I am for your dick. And the rest of you, I suppose.
I was gonna jerk off, but then I thought about that movie last night and it killed that idea. I have serious boner trauma.
He sent me a dick pic. I am fighting the urge to send him a "sorry for your loss" card.
Whoever said it shouldn't take a man to make you happy clearly wasn't having sex everyday.
Maybe life is about finding the person you DO want to cuddle with after they rail you like a porn star
You went after him with a sword while screaming “FAJITAS!”. And Todd was dressed as a Goth for some reason
Randomize
