So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
I am about to get in a knife fight over a corn dog.
so it turns out, not only do the doormen judge the girls I bring home, but they rate them.
Let's get back to talking about you giving me a blow job.
the parents are super pissed...made eye contact with the mom while going down on another girl
We listened to Rod Stewart Pandora and slow danced in the shower.
With the amount of g's you put on going I'm gonna guess you're drinking alone again
I don't judge her for getting booty calls at 2 in the morning, so she can't judge me for staying in friday nights and putting spray cheese on pringles.
They were scared I was going to get lost last night so they dressed me up as Waldo so someone would always find me.
Haha. Maybe he's one of those feminine men who fucks like a god then makes you fantastic crepes afterwards
You think you're smart. You're pretending to be asleep to save yourself from my hormonal pms mood swings. Unfortunately that only works against bears.
There are grandparents doing keg stands I don't know
the worst fight me and my gf ever had was over Guy fieri
I have this theory that your highest awareness of how drunk you are is while you're sitting on a toilet
Thanks. I just smoked a bowl topless so I'm in heaven right now.
Randomize
