I'm gonna write a book, Things that go bump in the night: The story of Katelyn. Chapter one, my roommate is a dumb whore.
Its like after 6 beers, the clap doesn't scare me anymore.
After I gave him a handjob for a half an hour he told me I should be a taxidermist. I'm gonna take it as a compliment.
i was laying in her brothers bed, in his old room. and i kept getting the chills. i didn't know if it was a draft or the ghosts of BJ's past.
Honestly, It follows the same rules as Cock Roulette.
Are we playing "how much awkwardness can we fit in the final 29 hours of 2011"?
yes yes we are. Go do something with super glue. i don't want to win.
It's was about average. But he had a tat on his thigh that said "pull-out n' rollout" so I won't have to worry about a round two request.
I know I've become a responsible adult because this time, I'm not going to do the drugs I found on the ground
WELP I KNOW THE HAPPY HOUR DRINKS WERE GOOD BECAUSE MOM JUST INFORMED ME I AM THE RESULT OF POKED HOLE IN THE DIAPHRAGM
Now with the essential back story, I can empathize. Sorry about your beer and butthole.
The first time he ever tried to hold my hand, I moon walked away.
He walked in on me masturbating and on my phone but got mad because I wasn't watching porn just tweeting
we are currently pregaming for our walk to the liquor store.
step one: admitting you have a problem. complete.
Stoner thoughts are the only thoughts I want to have now.
At a bar in the city and the whole place starting singing “Happy Birthday” to someone. Everyone but me. The person next to me leaned over and said, “Why didn’t you sing along?!?” I responded, “I don’t know him. I don’t give a shit if he has a happy birthday.”
Randomize
