Where are you?
In a non slutty way
textsfromlastnight.com keeps rejecting me
that alone proves you never get laid, nor have a life.. or have anything funny to contribute to the world.
I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
You'll have to pretend I'm texting you with buddychecks.
Like the Jimeny Cricket of cockblocks.
Alright, text me when you get close. I've got a mustache and I'm ready to get my day drunk on.
Some people dream of being astronauts others dream of having genitalia that shines like Edward Cullen in the sun
Safe to say I'm terrified but totally AMPED
I don't know what happened this summer, I've lost my sense of morality. All I do now is work, get drunk, and have sex near national landmarks.
I think it's time to give up this life and become vikings. You in?
I had to google some of the kinky sex shit she was telling me she was into.
If that is not a reason to propose to her then I don't know what is
YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE FIRST VISITOR TO CHRISTMASLAND
Unless you count my weekly workout where I drink wine, listen to obscure/cheesy records, and pretend I'm a ballerina...no. I don't exercise.
You know you have a good math teacher when we're talkIng about mixture problems and no one gets it until he explains it by talking about mixing alcohol
Listen, you eat the donut. I eat you out. Everybody wins.
Boys winking, cowboys tipping their hats, old people looking disappointed.... ah, I had forgotten the unholy powers of exposed cleavage!
You are my hero.
Randomize
