Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
You should have seen her outfit yesterday. It was like pretty woman before Richard Gere gave her money to buy a new outfit.
We were hooking up and you crawled into bed with us, because you had lost your phone and didn't "want to be alone at a time like this."
This girl told me she was a virgin the other day. I felt like I was talking to a unicorn.
There's a very real possibility that I'll wake up in your uncle's driveway.
I thought of you this morning when I woke up in a bed with a girl wrapped in duct tape dressed as a coors light can.
I woke up on top of his counter next to a pot of boiling water and an empty package of ramen... what happened to the ramen, we will never know.
she broke up with me the week she got divorced. maybe I should grab a beer with her ex
I have a sixth sense for dads free balling in gym shorts
id one day like to live in a world full of emotionless and wonderfully fullfilling sex...
IM NOT TALKING TO YOU UNTIL YOU MAKE A PROCLAMATION YOU LOVE ME MORE THAN TACOS
I'm tired of the topic. I sent him a pic of my vagina to change it.
I am never drinking with the goths again.
Once the overwhelming "oh god my crotch is on fire" wears off, that excite stuff is really nice
Thanks for wearing matching bob ross shirts to the bar with me and referring to every guy as a happy little accident
Randomize
