Last night was a blur. All I remember is jizzing in the squeegee bucket at a gas station.
The look on the soccer mom's face was PRICELESS.
oh vodka. i could write you a sonnet.
I forgot how ruthlessly advertising works on me when I'm high.
between no blow jobs for the rest of his life, or no cheese for the rest of his life, he chose no blowjobs. ive never felt so bad about my bj abilities before
names aren't important. just tell him all you want is a lil make out sesh and keep it moving.
and all i could think about was how mcdonalds would not be open anymore after we were done having sex
..and it was like all of a sudden I could hear the sounds my brain was making
After 2 hrs of driving around looking for him, we just found him sleeping in the bed of my truck with the cover closed, cuddling with the spare tire.
Nyquil jello-shots aiding in health and happiness
Someone shat in our tub last night. I'm not pointing fingers but you priors make you a prime suspect.
Say whatever you bloody well like; you don't know the true meaning of life until you have smoked to a Sade cd.
Well you were listening to music and having sex really loudly. How was I supposed to know you'd hear me making rocket sounds?
He was Jesus for Halloween and I definitely got on my knees and gave him praise.
i just told him to get ready, because I'm going to be taking out my anger over the Super Bowl out on his penis.
Just an FYI you do have to wear pants to lunch
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