I had a disgustingly explicit dream last night involving myself and lil wayne.
So I went home with some chick last night... I'm not sue what's worse: not getting a nut at 5am, the condom breaking and not being replaced, feeling poo when I put my finger in her but, sleeping on a heroin mattress in her living room, her swine flu coughing fit at 7am or realizing she peed the matt at 10am. Actually it was probably the fact that she continuously told me she was the classiest girl in boulder.
Michael Jackson had a heart attack when he found out boyz to men was a music group not a delivery service.
He wrote my name on his dick, took a picture and then said "this has your name written all over it!"
I'm hoping to finish this bottle of wine before I pass out, I don't want the remainder spilling on my white down comforter.
This is no lauging matter. Huge cock equals great sex. Marriage to huge cock equals great life.
You didn't even properly utilize my pigtails.
My masturbation fantasy just had a wedding theme. I need new hobbies.
Trying to coordinate a drug deal while taking a psych test is not easy.
I'm going to be fiscally responsible and buy a handle.
I'm so incredibly high right now the fact I am texting is nothing short of miraculous. Call the Pope. Hell make me Saint Roy, patron of stoners.
All I have are vague memories of us eating ham?
Do you think showing up at his door with bourbon and chicken is too forward?
Recliner chair sex has moments of worry....just don't.
THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN JUST MISSIONARY
Randomize
