Whiskey dick.
Yea dude! Love it. Hate it. Have it.
Everyday of my life.
forecast for tonight- shitshow with a chance of tbell
my version of bright and sunny.
No one even knew you were hurt until we saw the multiple cuts to prove it, and when we asked what happened all you could say was "I fell out"
hey, sorry about all the butter. I thought it was gonna help.
ex-cheerleader. ex-gymnast. ex-dancer. i dont even know who to go for tonight
I shit myself. Legit. And I burnt my tongue. Unrelated incidents, but related in the sense of general discomfort.
I dreamt of sea otters and your boobs. My two favorite things.
The bottle of Jameson may have been a bit aggressive for a Sunday cookout.
Sadly, she's the porn star that got away
we told the drug dealer that our car was dead and we needed a jump so he would bring the drugs to us...
all night she kept rolling over and mumbling something about wanting an extendable retractable urethra.
The zombie version of you bit my friend's hand. No more zombie crawl for you. Not ever.
You -do- realize there are other things to talk about than just how different parts of you smell like pussy, right?
Tell me I'm drunk and you have to come get me. It's usually true. They'll believe you.
I've seen your dick too many times for both of us to be straight.
Randomize