There are traffic cones in the living room. One of them is yours.
I wish I could google chicago male strippers on my work computer but I don't feel like talking to HR today
By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
as it turns out, there is no "i was in the pool" excuse for adderall-induced shrinkage.
We call it lazy sex. We just lay next to each other and help each other masturbate. that way we can both be on bottom.
Someday you'll be stoned enough to create a one-person step team and then you'll understand
she kept asking for a lobster dinner while she was crying. it was actually the most reasonable drunk chick request i've ever heard.
To my ex and my favorite mistake: I totally enjoyed hearing you have erectile disfunction via baby monitor!
I'm gonna take my bong and hot box the pirate ship in the daycare playground.
Is it just me or does the sex still keep getting better? I wasn't crying, my eyes just watered from how hard I was cumming.
facebook is just a cold reminder of all the times other bitches won my hookups
He's so vague sometimes. Like dude, we've been friends for 3 years. I don't need you to be vague, I need you to be inside of my vagina.
Currently watching Zombie Sharks while high. This is why I love Shark Week.
UGH FUCK THIS TRAFFIC I WANNA SUCK A DICK
Cocaine and dance dance revolution for 4 hours. I consider last night a success.
Randomize
