I thought I drunk dialed Adam last night and left him a voicemail. I just checked my phone. I realize I left a drunk voicemail with my son's teacher.
I'm calling you out on twitter if you don't come over right now.
If Curt Schilling could pitch a game with that blood-filled sock... if Tiger Woods won the 2008 US Open with a torn ligament, then I'd be an embarrassment to the human race if I couldn't manage to at least jerk him off even if I was still crying after he put it in my butt.
I am drinking ovaltine with peppermint schnapps. My childhood could have been so much better.
He said I came instead of I'm coming. I wonder if he noticed my state of confusion when I stopped blowing him.
Wasn't he an English major?
It doesn't matter if I tell the story beginning to end or end to beginning, the story still starts with a random girl blowing me in the bathroom.
You had a towel around you and you called it your shot bib.
We just had a sexually tense moment where we both chose the trough the pee. I love gay clubs.
Almost to my house to grab beer. And pants.
I hope so much that you got average or above average dick tonight because I wish you the best
First poop in my apartment for the summer, officially settled in. :)
Why didn't you ever bring me to the pope as a baby so he could kiss me.
You squatted and peed on the living room floor while maintaining eye contact with Sebastian
He weighed maybe 130, his dick had to be 30 of it. SO BIIIIG.
so i went to the bathroom and my thong was on sideways... i guess that solves the mystery
Randomize
