To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
So I'm at the Chevron by your house. I need a condom and a couch.
Together?
Preferably.
it's not cheating when I paid for it
well, 500 bucks doesn't grown on trees, and i need that bear suit for any chance of vagina access.
If I ever mention marriage force me to Brazil to do coke and strippers until I die.
If I wake up with an unknown penis in me one more time I am literally going to press charges to the makers of tequila.
I love shooting for the middle. Those girls never wake up well.
I'm gonna let my dick speak for itself from now on. Seriously, it's always recruiting for me even after 6 hours of drinking.
You kept yelling in my face " YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SUCK A DICK TONIGHT!"
When you're a bigshot ER surgeon and I'm a starving artist, I want you to remember who held your hair last night.
I'm using my ex bfs phone number to look up his Kroger card so I can get a discount on condoms...yep this is my life
I imagine it like the scene in Sorceror's Stone, but instead of flying keys, it's flying dicks.
That is a dream.
My butthole probably tastes like a Cinnabon right now
Like do I send him a nude to ease his mind off his brother having a stroke? I'm not very good with words when it comes to consoling... I would be a terrible mother.
So we'll go out later for condoms and cake batter... aka grocery shopping for champions.
Randomize
