So I'm pretty sure I fucked the dept of homeland security guy on my kitchen table. No recollection of it, but there are signs.
I'm proud of our boobs and what they could potentially achieve in life.
I woke up to him eating cereal out of my viking helmet with a shot glass. No idea where he got the milk.
we had to stop you from eating moldy cake.. twice.
I guess since this is supposed to be my year of the lesbian it's okay
I mean it's not my fault he had a floor mat that read "put out or get out". What was I supposed to do?
Ok more importantly someone in a chicken costume just stepped in front of my car and started breakdancing...
It's not really that big. Girls just think it feels big. It's a cocktical illusion.
High moment. Almost just passed the blunt to the dog.
he kept telling me how much his girlfriend would love me while we were making. why does tequila always do this to me?
And if it ever comes down to tax or healthcare benefits we can get married
That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard
My boss doesn't know what jello shots are. I've lost faith in this company.
He is getting no nudes from me. I don't even care if I'm losing his legal advice.
He washed his dick in my kitchen sink after sex. I think he might be a keeper.
There are two guys here arguing over Pearl jam and Nirvana. 1991 wants its argument back.
Randomize
