I just had to have my mom look at my penis to figure out what it was. How do you think my day is going?
Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
opening your purse in class to grab a pen only to find dollar bills and pink fuzzy handcuffs instead...that's a cool feeling
youre not allowed to be friends with girls ive double teamed. period.
Also managed to rip my pants and set myself on fire. And oddly enough I'm still not ready to ask for 2010 back.
You slept with a red coat way too close to independence day. It's just very unpatriotic.
Take my keys. Load me into the vehicle. Drive. Get food. Come back. These are my demands.
I hear youre working today. To keep you entertained, ive compiled a list of condiments that my dick has NOT been slathered in since last Friday: Relish, and raspberry jam. That's right.
Then again, I'm single and napping with a stuffed yoda doll...so I'm not the world's authority on shit.
I think I'm just gonna be a cat and wear slutty black clothes with some eyeliner on my face and pretend my ears got stolen by a drunk guy
I did cocaine off my boobs last night. Then I wrote two essays and went on a run. Go me
This makes me appreciate being single with no prospects.
I'm here. Help me get the salsa and bong inside.
I'm writing to thank you for your never ending commitment to my orgasms and also to apologize if any physical harm was done due to your impressive efforts. Hopefully the sex and post sex pizza made up for it.
I just want this to serve as a reminder in the morning that the topic of conversation at last call was the penis size of jesus.
Randomize
