My grandpa is talking about laundry and he asked if i could run a "small hot load." Wow. I had to leave the room.
it was like the sexual equivalent of when Wilson fell off the raft and floated away
I closed that bar. Sang every Beatles song in the book. Made Somoan friends.
That's the last time we joust in Radio Flyer wagons after margarita night.
I'll tell you what, we couldn't have asked for better binge-drinking weather.
I woke up at 3am naked and stroking a watermelon.
Holy fucking shit the worst thing for a hangover ever--A FUCKING BOLLYWOOD MOVIE BLARING IN CLASS
Everyone is now just referring to it as "the night Hannah couldn't get laid" so needless to say you didn't miss much
do you ever feel so high you're swimming backstroke and then you realize you're still laying in bed on tumblr
I think I have to break up with him. I just cried, not moaned, screamed, etc, cried, with tears of sadness and disappointment when I came.
Lets just put it this way. Im meeting his nana after a mind blowing orgasm.
The name of the man in your bed is not Ryan. I can't remember what his name is but that is wrong
I think I may be going on too many job interviews. I've started to bring up Shonda Rhimes in my interview answers.
He wore a t-shirt that had an arrow pointing to his crotch and "DO IT FOR THE VINE" on it.
At least he's honest about how long he'll last.
I don't care. It's wine Wednesday get your gameface on.
Randomize
