Get out...Run...Or there's going to be a dick in your mailbox
john hughes is dead. crushing any and all dreams of me ever being in an 80's john hughes film. bummer.
So there is this guy preaching the word of God outside our club. I went up to him and said, "God made this body, and he made it for premarital sex." Sup, Hell?
he said that he wanted to outsmoke the rain, I don't know what that means but I'm gonna go help him
I might scale it back and go as an investment banker. Which is the exact same costume as James Bond on LSD. I just introduce myself differently.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
shes still here... layin in my bed watching a beyonce concert on tv drinking leftover franzia straight outta the bag and crying
The smell of mosquito spray completely ruined the sex.
I told you you to bring something to share....you brought tequila and a condom
Lack of response to this text gains you a half hour of freedom before I initiate operations to conclude you are not, in fact, comatose. You requested no mercy.
Some dude peed on tonys floor because drunkness
They offered him a bucket as he was peeing and he was like "Nah, I'm good"
No he can't come. I swear to gods he's "Why We Can't Have Nice Things" given physical form.
I have mastered the art of having sex on monkey bars.
Our orgasm ration was 1:45. No. Fucking. Joke. I thought I was going to die.
Its nights like last night that make me want to high five my liver.
Randomize
