You were wearing a sombrero. And a crown. And told me to use the nerf gun to protect your room from the cat. You don't have a cat.
john hughes is dead. crushing any and all dreams of me ever being in an 80's john hughes film. bummer.
last nights episode of shot friends brought to you by polish vodka and flamingo baseball. pickles cure hangovers.
I made mike pull over so I could lay in the grass. He made me get up cuz I looked dead and people were passing. It was like 6:30am.
Him cheating on his girlfriend resulted in a $1500 hospital bill from repeated blows to his testicles by my ass. They diagnosed his pain as "testicle trauma". Sex karma at it's finest.
A BJ like that needs to be recommended.
The last thing I remember is crying and shaking my head as she was putting salt on my hand. I guess I took the shot
I bit my tongue so hard I left a deep imprint. Fuck you tongue, stop getting in the way of food.
Oh my god there are animals here. There are actusal animals trying to get him. A giraffe is trying to get in. A giraffee is trying to get in. Is ridiculouss.
Come get your pancakes and take a nap in my boobs.
I walked in on him pumping himself up by headbanging to the drumbeat from Jumanji.
I gave him blue balls & ate the last slice of pie so the chances of a second date are slim...
I've had my dick out in public way too much for someone my age...
Tonights mission: get trashed, smoke a bowl on top of the silo, get some dick. Not necessarily in that order.
From now on I'd like to be known as Rampage.
Randomize
