So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
My cardio has turned into running out of the cold from bar to bar.
As it turns out, strippers don't accept checks.
It started as a joke and ended with a trip to the emergency room, a broken macbook and a gigantic hole in the concrete of my driveway.
He's covered in dirt and enchiladas. We're going drinking now.
I don't fucking care about the convenience of not having freudian slips. I spent 2009-2011 screwing around with 3 different Daniels. 2012 WILL be the dawn of a new day
How about a mike?
Already had two of those
yea. Don't mess. He will heal me. But my blowjobs will be historical.
We just set the fire alarm off with a fog machine. What's my first instinct? Finish my drink. I think I handled that correctly.
Here's the thing, you got road head in two different cars tonight. You feel lucky yet?
just imagine me sitting naked on a toilet with a fully-clothed dude i havent seen in 2 years, trying to make normal conversation except that im covered in blood and he's helping wipe me down while i try not to pass out because blood makes me NERVOUS. And he's apologizing and i'm apologizing.
When she saw "buy condoms" on my to do list she figured out pretty quick we were breaking up.
I wanna hang out. The cats don't talk back.
You are not the cause of late onset lesbianism.
I think this Canadian beach volleyball player might be my soulmate. We could check each other's shoulders for melanoma.
You are hungover. Your arguments are irrational an incoherent. We only played twice. Have some Gatorade and take a knee.
Randomize
