So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
just woke up to a 10 min voicemail of you singing "99 red ballons".... you need to work on your german..
I may or may not have puked in my RA's suggestion box.
Sign out of Gchat. Right now my gchat list is entirely girls I've slept with.. and you. You are fucking up my gchat chi.
Freshmen girls are like potato chips you can't have just one.
Dude. This guy has a ketchup bottle full of jello shots. Best. Thing. Ever.
Also his beard was very delicious looking. I wanted to touch it so bad, but I held back.
because. if I can't sit outside naked and eat my watermelon every morning then I really don't see the point in moving in with you.
Six words: 3rd Degree Burn On My Dick
On Tinder, guy asked me if I had ever been fucked by a Pokemon master. Needless to say I didn't respond.
I have loved her ever since she went down on my first wife
She said I'm like warm bathroom-sink water. There's nothing necessarily wrong with me, but she doesn't exactly want to "drink me in"
Bottom line; if I'm coming out of my bat cave to do the dishes and get a chicken wing and I have no pants or makeup on and my messy bun looks more like Santa got leprosy and crashed his sled into the back of my head then let me be. That's all I'm saying.
Why do I always have at least 8 men with whom I am conducting some sort of poorly planned love experiment?
Social anxiety problems: I just had to get up and change stalls mid-poop because someone sat down in the one next to mine.
Randomize
