my periods are so regular now that they are sync-ed with my subscriptions of vogue.
she was drooling, sharted in her sleep, rolled over stuck her hand under the covers pulled it back out, smelled it and moaned and rolled back over. i almost added puke to the disgusting bodily fluid category.
Brought out my three foot martini glass last night, that explains why I haven't left my bed all day long.
Scott woke me up by cracking a beer open in my face. Best friends are awesome.
You bring the bicep workout. I'll bring the unscented gentle products. We'll both bring our penises.
It was around the time I started requesting "big girl straws" from the bartender for my jack and diets, that I knew I'd probably wake up with my sunglasses on and find my wallet in the shower.
He's yummy.
HE'S GAY. AND 40.
Irrelevant.
I have a strict rule of what enters my vajay. It's either sparkly, or human. Anything else and I draw the line. Standards.
We just saw two bitche in pink capris jazzercising down the road. On Thanksgiving.
You were passed out in the OutBack Bowl Shrimp costume and when we asked you wtf happened you just said On Wisconsin.
Also, fucking on half deflated air mattresses is a great full body work out.
I mean, I'm not upset that HE's getting married, I'm upset his penis has to go through with it by default
Last thing I remember I was riding on a picnic table being hauled around by a lawn mower with an empty case of bud light on my head...
if i had an alexa it would be saying “have sex with guys that don’t care about you”
you don't need to worry about using proper grammar if you're asking for the size of his dick.
Randomize
