and that's why we call him explosion in my pants. no one remembers his real name.
The dutch village is so much worse hungover. Fuck them and their wooden shoes.
after he came i started crying. just to fuck with his head.
He's my palate cleanser. He's my mint sorbet. He's my saltine cracker. He's who I fuck between people to make the next one better.
Nyquil jello-shots aiding in health and happiness
If you're still on campus there's a jack and coke in the bathroom of fondren science Bldg. Too strong to bring to class.
I know it's early but when you wake up can you please validate my life and tell me I'm not just a drunk idiot.
We should totally stay in at new years, have sex and try to time orgasm to the countdown
Last thing I remember was a hand in the pants. Then I woke up next to a full beer and a McDouble, which I promptly had for breakfast.
Drinking a grey goose and water in a random chair that I found by the road by myself
So there's that.
Reasonably certain my seventh grade teacher is encouraging me to drop acid on twitter
Fuck him and his perfect arms, huge penis and relentless ability to ignore me.
She said my penis was powerful and magnificent
Whats spookier? Halloween or waking up to a drunk text from your ex telling you how awesome you are at 2am
And now Google thinks I have a hard hat fetish...maybe I do...
Randomize
