we're getting ready to take strippers to breakfast. I love my life.
You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
Her vagina smelled like hockey gear.
finding my wedding ring encrusted in vomit this morning really just topped off last night...
Pretty sure I just slept with Elmo.
As it turns out, strippers don't accept checks.
Just put a sign on a baby carriage that says "all daddy wanted was a blowjob" might get fired.
Since you haven't talked to me since the rancid whipped cream fiasco, I'm going to assume we are no longer hooking up. But I need my handcuffs back. ASAP.
I made out with Jen. We were naked. I'm still gay. Forever
I guess? According to Jeff his mom is wondering when the grand babies will arrive. So I don't think they like ME so much as my supposed functioning uterus
Model at car show < day drinking with your favorite sister. Get your head in the fucking game Christopher.
So "I hate myself Mondays" has extended to Tuesday this week. I just had peanut butter and a glass of wine for lunch.
I wish I got like a congrats basket for being a responsible sexually active member of society complete with condoms, tissues and lollipops.
one of my coworkers asked me if I was PMSing today...... excuse me sir, but it is none of your business as to what my uterus is or is not doing right now. fucker.
and yea, I'm PMSing.
She looked up and said "I like this." I asked "what do you like?" she said "penis."
Randomize
