they're scary. like turkeys that ate nuclear fucking steroids.
They call it the Collection Couch because all 4 room mates have slept with at least 3 different girls on it. He tried to seal the deal with "would you like to be number 14?"
And sadly I did.
I feel like all of the victims from Seven. Best birthday weekend ever.
By the way. I expect to test the theory of you running a mile drunk for memorial day.
This reminds me of the time I was given a lap dance by a David Bowie drag king...
So many gingers... It's like a beacon went out that said "this one is ok with red hair"
Day drinking! Today! (tomorrow too!) Our place! Whenever you get off work! Ready go!
Whatever. I am not explaining the physics of my dick slapping.
Also the fuck cup must be buried with me
If you magically turned into a tall white gay guy, ignore this message. If not, then I'm sure someone has your fb password.
one more hour of this work bullshit and I'm off to get high with your cat.
Also, being stuck with my family all week has made it very clear that I need to be drunk and I need to be fucked pronto
I worked all year for this tax return. I deserve to get my nipples pierced.
I just used a box o wine to refill a bottle o wine to more effectively drunk clean
He's ruined me. Do you know how frustrating it is to know I'll never find another guy as tall and handsome and rich with as big of lips & booty, and cock as him who also rims and takes me on tropical vacations and buys me all the cocaine.
Randomize
