So I'm at the Chevron by your house. I need a condom and a couch.
Together?
Preferably.
You guys need to get along, there is no need for a pissing contest...We're all fucking each others ex's.
I think ppl see us as an unstoppable drunken force
last nights episode of shot friends brought to you by polish vodka and flamingo baseball. pickles cure hangovers.
No. No. And hell no. If you are driving a Honda Fit you are not allowed to give me a dirty look. No.
It would only make sense that I'd cheat on him with his best friend on the ides of march...
Maybe it's just my body's way of telling me I don't need pinky toes. Like I'm the next evolutionary leap or something...
Remember when we saw my neighbor taking dick pics of himself? He's back at it!
I kinda wanna Instagram the giant vag stain on my sheets. That is something to be proud of. It's a Christmas miracle.
What does it say about my expectations if I'm pounding three beers the hour before a date?
Never in my life did I dream that I would meet and NFL linesman, let alone that he would be standing before me dressed as a Roman centurion and asking for Vaseline.
I just wanted a bootycall and now somehow I'm at his parents playing dominoes. But they have tequila so it's cool
How do you nicely stand up a date that you're skipping for a 3sum
Did I tell you he put a lobster carcass on his dick?
thank you for being so understanding of my weak stomach and poor self-control
Randomize
