I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
Boobs. All I remember is boobs.
I swear my cock is like a magnet to my friends younger sisters mouths.
I don't know what's worse, the fact that my parents own a sex swing or the fact that my little cousin was playing on it
I mean, I'm all about sharing, but when he tells me about his wet dreams about Oprah, I think it's taking it too far.
I'm pretty sure "tag teaming" and "looking for stability" are not synonymous.
Not yet.
He said it was fake. Like really? Hey baby, I wanna sleep with you, so here's a picture of a fake tiny dick
so it turns out the huge bruises on my knees are from drunk bmxing and not getting railed from behind on the ground
and ill have you know that I only wiped out twice
I think my boss gives me work off weekends because he doesn't want me showing up hungover anymore..
You've lost booty call privileges between the hours of 10pm and 8am.
Today's goals: get day drunk then sober up in time for the walking dead tonight.
wasn't that the evening we made out with the girls from the dental school, drank 3000 beers, almost had to beat up a guy at the strip club and James nailed some hot piece of tail and took her OSU windbreaker, which my dad went on to wear multiple times after finding it in the garage.
Yes. To all of that. Yes.
He woke up from being passed out on the couch mumbled something that sounded like "Taco" then proceeded to the bathroom only to pass out again, I think we need to learn how to party like him!
why is there a porcupine in the kitchen
I just bought a mini nerf gun so he could make a bowl out of it, I deserve the fuck buddy of the year award!
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