Sex has been so nonexistent lately that when I was masturbating the other day, I actually paused to yawn.
I feel more comfortable going down on her then actually kissing her.
No clues in my phone. Only dialed call: my own social security number. And that was before 10:00pm.
I don't think we had sex because when I woke up he was still wearing the chicken suit.
I had to explain the gravity bong to my mom. Right after she pointed out I have a lot of dicks on my floor at any given moment.
He's high as balls tripping balls and doing a reenactment of the scene where Buzz jumps off the balcony and can't fly to his soundtrack of Toy Story.
All I could think of during that funeral was how great I look in a suit, how creepy catholics are, and how horny I am.
drinking vodka, listening 2 smh at 530am slow cooking beef stew. you'll enjoy the stew and worry abt me in the morning. bon apatite
Some girl is sitting topless in the kitchen and having a Skype video chat with some guy. I already like it here.
I fell into a manhole last night, so there's that
ROB LOWE. SO BEAUTIFUL. SO DOUCHEY. SO HARD TO SPELL HIS NAME WHEN DRUNK.
I imagine it like the scene in Sorceror's Stone, but instead of flying keys, it's flying dicks.
That is a dream.
He kept telling me that he didn't serve two tours in Iraq for my bitch ass to drink banana rum.
she peed her pants, took them off, the put them back on. but she only put her legs in one hole.
It still amazes me Mike had to have neck surgery after eating me out so much.
Randomize