That fat broad you banged out last night is still here and I can hear her snoring through the living room wall. I would leave, but I don't want to come home to an empty fridge.
Did I get blown in the bathroom? Yes. Did she throw up cranberry juice on my shorts? Yes. Did she finish the job? Yes.
How do you tell if you're on the terrorist watch list?
we've progressed from teabagging to lighting eachothers asses on fire. this cannot be a good path.
I can hear the condescending tone from the atm when it asks if $3 is all I would like to deposit
I'm pretty sure getting a blow job behind a bar in Rome while her little sister is throwing up in a dumpster not 5 feet away, gives entirely new meaning to the phrase "When in Rome"
You're a college freshman. Its your job to be pathetic. And drunk. But mostly pathetic
if girls can go out in miniskirts and reveal their thongs, I should be able to wear a sheer dress with boyshorts with the word love bedazzled on my ass.
This is why you're my favorite.
You raged at the rock climbing place for not selling beer and then just said "fuck it" and pulled out a flask.
well a fat roach just fell out of my hair. so there's that
I mean I only got hit in the ass with ONE firework
I need to calm my uterus...
Emergency thong? Check! Suspension bondage is a go!
he went down on me WHILE i ate BACON PIZZA! best. boyfriend. ever.
When I planned out my evening, "co-author lesbian vampire erotica" was not anywhere on my list of expected activities.
Me neither, but hey, this is where we've ended up. Let's embrace the moment.
Randomize
