Some broad at the bar just asked me how much money I make. I don't know whats worse, the question or the answer.
So what's the moral of this story? Aside from 'lesbians hold grudges'?
battery dying...get laid and text me after...or during...its whatever.
When i asked him what happened all he said was, the toucan... the toucan... over and over again.
had to ask my 13 year old sister if she knew any dealers... she did. it's good to be home.
I know its been a few months but you must know you hve the 2nd biggest dick I've ever seen. 1st place went to a rapper so don't feel bad.
I'm wearing a cape at the laundromat. I really can't say shit
I have to shave my legs first. I'm afraid tiny woodland creatures will fly out if he tries touches them.
Sure go ahead and start this 'business' with him...just don't come crying to me when you have to fake your own death in two years
There's a baby in the strip club. I say again: THERE'S A BABY IN THE STRIP CLUB
And why in he fuck did I get 'dick' in Romanian tattooed on my forearm
he was like tryna hang and chat and I was like dude there's an iguana in this room
Like when your most normal sex dream is you being a prostitute, you know it's been one long ass dry spell.
Texting people and counting condoms..we have like fourteen. Goal for this week: use all of them
I just elbowed a roll of wrapping paper, and said “ohh sorry”. I’m still drunk.
Randomize
