my brain is sober enough to have a conversation.. but my arms feel nice
you texted me last night and told me you couldn't find the toilet.
That explains the puddle of pee in my closet.
Revenge fucks should not count towards the total number. They're justified.
i don't remember it, but i know we had sex because my stuffed animals were facing the wall
My third nipple is alarmingly under-appreciated.
I mean, I know going to rehab probably didn't make her a lesbian, but I can always hope
found a cell phone. in the freezer. wrapped in bologna. explain?
Even the bar was yelling boobs, so of course the shirt came off
So apparently I threw a potted plant at a clown last night and told him to get his life together.
Is it related to planting your seed? Cause I don't know if you have studied the development of a tiny human, but that is some complicated shit.
Isn't everything in a man's life somehow related to him planting his seed?
Dude he downed 9 shots of tequila, sang bohemian rhapsody with 3 randoms Wayne's world style, solo'd closing time, chased the hot bartender's dog all the way to main, tackled him, carried him back, hot bar tender hugged AND kissed him, then he does a jumping heel click and leaps into my car through the window. Next rounds free at the yeti. Needless to say your little brother is a tequila god.
Basically.
I can't tell if I have the Pizza Hut shits or beer shits
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
My prof handed me back my essay on Lesbians in literature, gave me an A and then we had sex in her office. Told you she was gay.
MY GUT IS TELLING ME YES AND SO IS MY VAGINA
Randomize
