I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
I just did the scooter of shame. New levels of embarrassment have now opened.
See it, we're so close, i smell your vagisil
Please do NOT set off the smoke alarm when I am tied to the bed like this...
he needs to stop knowing everyone on campus...it's making cheating on him really difficult.
My only expectation is honesty. And three orgasms every time.
This essay is so getting done. I am spurred on by thoughts of test-driving your newly shaven face by sitting on it as soon as humanly possible.
It was like bizarre-o star trek. I shamefully went where every man has gone before.
The shit I just took was my body's way of telling me bourbon and mixed nuts aren't an appropriate dinner. Well played, colon. WELL. PLAYED.
For sure. Gotta go. Building an igloo.
The cop asked you after the breathalyzer what you think you blew and you very discreetly shouted "I'm pretty sure i blew Kyle on the way here "
Right now Tom has the 2nd floor office bathroom under siege. He shit/clogged one toilet, and he's throwing up in the sink.
He showed up to a baby shower and kept telling everyone he was late because he was pregaming. And then tried honking the pregnant girls tits
He sent me a slow motion video of him jerking off...it was so long (the video not his dick) even I felt awkward watching it alone
I wonder how many people I can tell that he has one nut before he finds out it's me spreading it.
Randomize