and I was crying with the towel lady in the bathroom of the bar about the tragedy in Haiti. Then we hugged before I left and I gave her 10 dollars.
I'm covered in salsa and facewash. I think I'm doing something wrong over here.
Her husband keeps getting drunk and making out with me. Good news is I found the strep carrier. Bad news is have strep again.
I'm such a fucking super-fan. I was worried his cum would wash away his autograph.
We fucked to showtunes. Never going out with a theatre major ever again.
Well when you get back to your computer, there's a nice explanation of pansexuality on your Skype.
I've never had goosebumps on my dick before. It was definitely not a bad feeling.
Let's get drunk and put things on the grill that have no right to be there.
Happy birthday, America.
You get home okay?
I'm pantless and in bed
That doesn't mean you're at home.
In the future, could you not call me 'bro' while we're having sex?
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
I'm over here willing to be the Yoda of fucking but I guess he just doesn't want to be a Jedi.
She's too awesome to dump: she gives me great blow jobs and free Popeyes. You just don't burn a bridge like that.
Last night when we banged she had nothing else on but socks that said 'property of Jesus' on them.
She started waving a nerf rifle around and demanding free booze.
Randomize
