They have to be talking about me. I never heard that statement until I was born.
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
Dear drunk me, don't shave my balls til you're sober. My junk looks like a pomeranian with mange.
Thanks for convincing the hot dog guy to give me one for $1 after I drunkenly dropped the first one. I loved your reasoning "I know you mark that shit up! I work in retail!"
I was more concerned about the amount of mcdonalds fries on the floor around me than i was with my lack of clothes.
Oh and I guess I added our cab driver on Facebook. He has "liked" every single one of my beach pictures. Kill me now.
jake and the teradactyl broke up, operation get high and find him a new girl who hasn't had sexual experiences with three delts simultaniously is in full effect.
by the way whatever wisdom you imparted upon me last night was lost to whatever i smoked out of a beer can.
I feel like satan and death had a baby that took a shit that replaced my brain.
Sex should not remind me of how baby birds get fed
what i'd really like is a nice helping of naked boyfriend with a side of naked boyfriend.
I tolerate his mediocre drunk sex for the mind blowing morning sex. More than worth it.
What happened to fro yo and sex?
Alex I've come up with a new medical condition. dick depression. it's a real thing and I have it
Maybe it’s too soon to casually tell the boss that I went to Tulsa for some dick last night
Randomize
