I need a slap back to reality. Or at least a slap back to homosexuality
There's a show on the Discovery Channel about T-Rex sex. I think this just made my life.
No more Irish car bombs ever.
I have no idea where we are. But it doesn't look dirty so I don't think we are in jersey yet
I don't know how many crown and cokes he went through but I know it was more that I have fingers. We are never leaving Texas.
I didn't plan on sleeping with him until he told me his mom is deaf.. Then I felt bad.
I have never smelled more like a drunk mariachi band than I do right now.
I've decided he is effectively a mouth, hands and cock held together by bad ideas and compliments, and I'm OK with that.
Since you're going to wake up and see one bajillion missed calls from me, I just want you to know that's a perfectly reasonable number. Now come downystairs.
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
I think he thought I was too drunk to handle his parrot
That's how pantless uber rides happen
So is seeing the guy's penis that I'm talking to something you're into or nah?
One three hour marathon fuck session and now she's divorcing her husband. Should I get business cards made?
Questions: How did Rachel get home? Why did I find both her ID's in my shoes? And does anyone know if she's alive?
Randomize
