I have a running excel spreadsheet detailing the number of shots in a night and subsequent ability to masturbate
He measures volume by how much weed he can put in it and surface area by how many people can have sex in it.
I hope the doctor doesnt lift up and my shirt and listen to my lungs. I dont want to explain why I have rug burns on my back.
I want to start this convo out by apologizing for the broken toaster.
Stripper pole. Sore legs. More vaca money.
like teasing for 28 minutes, then the very last 2 minutes is where is ALL goes down. I'm talking, rings off, stable sitting position, hand job madness.
Last night, I listened to Aladdin on my ipod while I stole bread and cheese from Wal-Mart. I feel like you're the only one who'd be proud of me.
Just did. I played that shit out so casual I deserve an Oscar. Or am Emmy, or whatever the fuck you get for acting like a boss
You're breaking my sexual little heart
I had a dream that we had an entire sofa made out of cocaine.
She meowed at me. Repeatedly. Then she asked what was wrong with me because I didn't understand her.
The fact that u had sex with a Disney prince blows my mind, you're my hero.
You can accomplish quite a bit with a can do attitude and a well placed ice cube.
I remember is someone saying "I smell weed" and then having a room full of sober high school kids look at me.
I think she lost me at about the point where the words “Ice Cream Enema” were spoken.
Randomize
