am i at home because theres a dig starrrrring at me and i dont know wit plus i haer sirens. run fast.
We will have to stop frequently for food, stretching legs, interesting things on the side of the road, and sex. So you might as well eat.
here I sit at Southern Illinois' finest pubs and I thought I heard your laugh. I was sadly astonished to turn and find a midget cracking herself up reading the label on her can of chewing tobacco...
school has made you so classy.
that's mcgill. producing sluts since 1884.
I never had a problem I couldn't slut my way out of.
He's drinking red wine in a margarita glass. He couldn't be more perfect for me.
I'm treating myself to a " uve slept with yet another mr. Wrong" breakfast
It's like a bag of dicks covered in taint sweat pounding a pregnant baby walrus.
While looking for an apartment, I've realized that the way I rate balconies is on the "how easy would it be to smoke weed here" scale.
What other scale is there?
Someone just knocked jenga into a plate of cake. I'm licking off each piece one by one.
No it's only my right leg that feels like it's about to fall off. The left is fine.
I can't remember the last time I saw a penis in person that I didn't see a million times on text first
I'm kinda sad I'm leaving the bank. I never got to have rough sex in the vault.
Here's a concept though: eating pasta while getting laid
Our sex sesh was interrupted by a bunch of hobos fighting outside his apartment.
Randomize
