If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
Too late. I'm going over there. I'm a bad example for all women: Do as I say, not who I do.
I'm pretty sure I'm almost gay. Like, I'd do it if I had no choice. Like, if i were in prison I'd try it.
I just got a 45 minute blow job...she literally sucked the single life outta me.
u sound so gay right now
the chick you hooked up with on my couch facebook friended me.
just thought you should know her name is kristen
Honestly, it's not that easy picking a Saturday night outfit that can translate to Palm Sunday mass. Priorities.
If you want to borrow my flask for all future interviews as a good luck charm because your last one went so well with it in your suit pocket, just let me know
I know shes my ex. And I know she punched me in the face and stole my car to go get drunk. But it's the best sex I've ever had.
You're sick. Take pictures if you can.
Almost to work. And still feel hungover. Like my body is trying to regenerate after dying. Full on zombie shit. But like, one of those zombies from warm bodies that comes back to life slowly.
Maybe I can find a straight girl rehab camp, like the opposite of those degaying camps, where they teach me how to love the ladies instead
Omg. I would pay ALL OF THE MONEY for that camp.
We were in his kitchen and she turned to me with a straight face and an avocado in her hand and said "Can we steal this?"
I've already come to terms that I'm gonna have to bone a few gross librarians, but hey, it's college
Fuck it, i havent messed around in half a year. I have sexual tension with a fire hydrant.
i spent most of my hangover doing the math to figure out the last of the alcohol would be metabolized from my system.
thank you pre-med degree.
Randomize
