apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
Just whacked off in the middle of writing a paper, gave me great ideas. Note, should do this more often.
I'm at the cafe. It's 7am. There is a girl I don't know on my futon who tried to tickle me this morning when I got down from my loft. I also not wearing any underwear.
i stalked him back to the creation of his facebook in november 2008. that bad.
I am dripping wet and slathered in glitter and banana mush. I love gay guys.
My dinner guests were so drunk they never realized that I inadvertantly put Frosted Mini Wheats on the salad instead of crutons.
I don't know. I guess at the end of the day I wanted taco bell more than a boyfriend.
Totally get that.
Okay good. And who the fuck put a condom on my foot. That shit hurt
you asked my brother if you could eat the cupcake that you found. you were showing him a baked potato
i would compare it to sliding down a velcro-covered fireman's pole naked. no more bearded men for me.
Now I just sit back and wait to give ass birth to pure evil.
Somehow, you looked so classy chugging that bottle of wine last night.
I just found your shirt hanging in a tree 4 blocks from the party...in the opposite direction of your house. where are you going?
You're emotionally mature, right? I said you were.
I have at least four things in my line of sight that have Kermit the Frog on them in my dorm. Does that answer your question?
The ass gains better be worth it
Randomize
