All I want to do is go home, strip down to my pants, get in the shower and pee down my leg
tonight would not even compare to the night i tried to pee in the living room
Apparently at one point I was wearing my sweatshirt backwards like it was normal and then I threw up into the hood. Never drinking again.
I wanted to dispute a few 411 charges on my phone bill. The service rep told me I called them four times asking for Lady Gaga's number.
And on top of all this... he just told me to "chill my nips."
She wants an explanation of my cousins creepy foot fetish with my god sister. i don't know how I can sum this up in a text.
Why is it only times like these when I'm scrubbing the cum stains off my futon before my family gets here that I seriously begin to question my life choices?
The more I stare at her and block out what she's actually saying with thoughts of what she could be saying, the more interested I become
We don't really communicate like that.
Communicate like what?
Communicate like people who want to see each other when their genitals are inside their pants.
I wish men found my impeccable aim when spitting into the sink attractive.
Done deal I'm dying it right at this moment. I'll need a red Speedo and a half shirt that is extremely tight. Like nipple tight.
He must have found my secret supply of blow and took a bump before we left the house. Rude.
He could of at least asked
apparently my buddy was fucking on our couch downstairs so i decided it was necessary to walk downstairs naked in a hockey mask.
Instead of asking him how many women he's slept with I just got straight to the point and asked how many Plan B pills he's purchased
Worst wingman u don't do ANYTHING but laugh at my incompitant shyness
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