You know it's time to leave Spain when you are back and forth between Skype and a Spanish dictionary trying to figure out out to say "I can still smell you on my skin."
Well, technically I had a shirt on, it was just around my waist.
He's my palate cleanser. He's my mint sorbet. He's my saltine cracker. He's who I fuck between people to make the next one better.
I'm more concerned about the fact that I can't feel my gums
He stumbled out of the bar bathroom at 3:30 am with his jeans unzipped and his dick hanging out - it was the physical manifestation of "blackout with your cock out"
I need to pack up my vagina and leave. We only do bad things together.
Holy shit he's circumcised. His parents must have really loved him.
I have to confess something, I may or may not have knocked on your window at 2:30 am while balancing on some guys hands. We found tequila.
SHUN THE NONBELIEVERS. THUS SAYS THE NIPPLE LORD
There's some random guy here dryhumping my kitchen door. If he is a friend of yours, please come and retrieve him.
It's entirely possible that I'm fucking yet another gay guy
I completely forgot I gave up beer. But airports don't count. They're like international waters. No rules.
I apologize for using the phrase "monster cock hentai porn shit" to describe that guy I picked up last week.
Let me just get through this whole court subpoena thing and then ill go back to buying alcohol for minors.
I've just realized that today's rations have consisted of turkey bacon and jack Daniels.
Randomize
