I just peed or puked all or around my parjibgb lot.
parking. I am not drunk
the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
The parties out here are fucking awesome and I've got the grades to prove it.
Just because your phone has a case on it doesn't mean it will survive a 5 story drop out the window.
Nothing says I've got my life together like buying a jumbo bottle of 7$ wine in sweat pants on a monday night
you can't tell me it's over and send me pics of you and your cat?
I refuse to have sex with you and your eBay condoms.
No teenage boy ever gets scared away from sex unless she is slipping a wedding ring on your finger or is killing your cat. I promise.
It's cosmic balancing. My vagina is an instrument of karmic retribution.
like every night i go out someone always suggests nipple hugs so that's why I always end up topless
Nothing like the soothing screaming of your neighbor getting boned while eating a pizza on the front porch.
Fuck you know you drunk when you start signing the Masson impossjvke song to entourage yourself to pee
I tried to get more sleep but the universe decided I needed a drunken freshman instead
He has great stamina, he knows how to use his tongue, and he's hung like a goddamn Pegasus. I can overlook the man bun.
He seems like a nice guy. I mean, I know he's married and he's essentially paying me to be his side hoe, but he really seems like a good person.
Randomize
