You just made me feel so damn special
my bed looks and feels like i need to buy plan b.
you were watching a documentary about sharks and wouldn't stop stroking my legs and whispering "what if they could walk?"
Whenever I said your name you screamed polo and did another shot.
Balls are wasted. Waste are ballsted. Ballsd wasted
I just want to make mistakes. Like stds that go away with antibiotics mistakes.
you know, this Evan Williams whiskey isn't so bad when it's watered down a bit and you're home by yourself on a Saturday listening to Snoop Dog alone in your apartment without pants or any plans for your future...
I've got a whole match.com system. Triple book. First dates always get the 6pm happy hour drinks slot. 8pm dinner goes to a girl where I think I can close the deal. 10pm slot goes to the sure thing in case of emergency, but 6 can always trump 8 and 8 always trumps 10. Just blame it on a dead iPhone battery.
That, my friend, is how I bang 50 new girls a year. Not luck at all. It's science and statistics.
That bar is one yeast infection away from total annihilation.
after giving head I just always feel like I need like. ice cream. as both a means of getting the lingering sperm out of my mouth, and a congratulations.
He is so pussy whipped she has made him change his name to Toby
summer in europe = liver of steel
I accept that challenge.
I'm 80% sure I have pink eye. This is my penance for being a homewrecker.
You know the bunny onesie you sent me? Happy Halloween, I just did the hop of shame.
God. Spice Girls is now grocery store demographic. Kill me.
Randomize
