we were both hunting dick last night. it ended terribly for both of us.
Please tell me I did not ask the bartender how big his dick was.
YOU RECOMMENDED ME TO THIS GIRL BECAUSE SHES A STRIPPER AND YOU KNOW MY WEAKNESS FOR STRIPPERS WITH CHILDREN.
You destroyed the landscape if my vagina FOREVER.
I found you laying in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and a slice of bologna on your face. You said you were having a spa day.
We were fucking at break-dick speeds.
Can't talk right now. I'm doing tequila shots with my professor at some Mexican bar. That's how I prepare for finals.
I smell like icyhot and vodka... Heres to my pulled tendon.
after he went down on me he said he wanted an air freshener for his car scented like my vag. i cant even.
Life Goals: never under any circumstances, pee in an elevator again. No matter how drunk
Great sex, the promise of us mixing our excellent genetics in the future, and access to drugs are mainly what's holding this relationship together at the moment
I just figured out the time exactly by how many shots and beers that I've had since this morning. I either have a terrible problem, or a great solution.
Fortunatly we found him, he was on my roof. Unfortunatly, we can't say the same for his pants. Still looking. BRB.
I just heard a crying baby from out my apartment window and yelled SAME
You know, finding my first grey pube at 34 is FAR more distressing than finding that first grey hair at 13.
I DO NOT FUCKING WANT OR NEED THIS INFORMATION!
Randomize