I'm 3 blocks south of you watching drag queens.
i just got a UPS package from a name and address i dont know, with one of my thongs in it. no recollection.
Probably, but last night was a special kind of drunk. It was a "let's see how drunk I can get without killing myself" drunk.
Either you made a spaghetti vodka smoothie last night, or you puked in the blender.
In the memo line of the check she wrote sexual healing.
I don't remember its real name, I just call it the Harrison Ford Cush after that idea with the Indiana Jones mask. I should just get high and sell people my ideas for their Halloween costumes all the time. I'd make a fucking fortune.
I don't know if it was his cologne or his Jesus hair, but he was much more fuckable than last time I saw him.
Now that I think about it, it may have been the 6 pitchers of beer.
That penis will go down in history. It's the Helen of Troy of dicks. I will conquer it and the tale will live on for future generations to learn from
I feel as though sleeping all day due to the effects of prescription painkillers paid for by union insurance made this the most American day ever for me
can I share that I'd like to fuck him in my new car as a sort of car warming present to myself?
We are not in a rock band. We can't continue living like this.
Did we do anything stupid last night besides hook up with our ex girlfriends?
i definitely signed you up to receive text message notifications from a jukebox last night. Not even sorry.
I have nice boobs. Don't wanna deprive anyone of the experience.
You're a saint.
She really wants to hug you. With her vagina.
Randomize
