Ok so the guy below me is either having sex very loudly or is very lonely
I lost control in the snow and hit a parked car. I went into our building to get a pen and paper to leave a note and when I came back the car was gone and there was a hot girl there. I used the pen and paper to get her number.
my mom just wingman'd for me at a bar. i really don't know what else to say.
He doesn't belong with God. He belongs face-down in a pile of his own excrement, vomit, blood and semen. Then pissed on by Satan.
we're like Indians of the 21st century. trading not for food and survival but personal gain and by trouble you mean getting daytime drunk and going to the roller ring then yes.
The bartender was shocked when I took the mop bucket from him and told him I'd take care of my friends puke.
We've gotten 3 pitchers already by trading for CUPCAKES
Or stump rather since he's possibly large. Large penises don't have tips, just blunt ends of battering rams.
Pounding your chest saying "me Tarzan" is not flirting or even talking
the new numbers in my phone would beg to differ
Because guys aren't supposed to cry. Especially when it's over a dude singing a Christmas carol.
Scary truckers and hobos. These are the men I attract
"You can go raw dog up in me". Exact words. I can't decide whether to run, or fuck. Help.
my extended weekend of being as irresponsible as possible started with blowing the bartender in the bar bathroom. off to a good start.
I wish I was there so i could bitch slap his incredibly sexy face
He said I have the “Denzel Washington” of vaginas.
Randomize
