does it bother you that i swallowed like millions of your unborn children
actually, i try not to think about it
and i pooped them out
at the resort hottubing with french twins, who brought champange. this should be a postcard.
the more i look through evidence of last night, the less i seem to remember.
You unbuttoned your shirt and started walking down the center of the road screaming traffic stops for Enrique Iglesias.
oh no, don't get me wrong.. she IS really pretty. If you are in to horses or Sarah Jessica Parker.
The "don't get cum on anything" rule also applies to my furniture and scarves
That's not technology. Doesn't count.
How do I tell my child he was conceived on a barstool in South Alabama?
After she cried and passed out at four in the morning, I had a very lovely, very drunken conversation with her mother while decorating a cake into the shape of a penis.
Definitely worth waiting her kid to got to sleep when the first thing you hear once she's back is "I want you in my ass right now"
In case you're wondering where my head is at right now, it's wishing that I was getting laid and not having a debate about cheese.
Did you leave ur panties in the sink?
Kitchen or bathroom?
Woke up this morning to a bunch of snapchats of you drunkenly yelling at grasshoppers. Good night?
I love you but this is the first Saturday I have ever spent at the police station. And where are my boxers?
He stopped in the middle of us fucking so he could turn on lithuanian techno music. And the sad thing is that it was the best sex of my life.
And then I woke you by humping you to Lionel Ritchie.
Randomize
