We can make salsa ya know, maybe even some hot sauce. That doesn't mean we're married.
i felt like the dude nobody likes from the mikes hard lemonade commercial
just woke up in my neighbors garage.
scratch that. I'm like 6 miles from my house in a random garage.
While I was banging her, her cell rang. She checked to see who it was, answered it, and moaned, "I'm dumping you."
So i closed my laptop as i started to fall off my bed and then i caught myself and realized that moment of catching myself is the difference between tuesday and friday.
being able to look good while almost puking is a skill that takes a lot of puking to develop.
Well, as a member of the greater american southwest gay community I just have to mark this as a total loss and you will be missed.
like he couldn't stop by and throw me in the back seat and ask for a blowjob? he had to give me flowers?
I had to stop mid sex to take my turn on words with friends so he wouldn't get suspicious. Hookup of the night helped me. We won.
I wrote my name on his balls in sharpie. In the homosexual world that's like a diamond ring. Shits permanent.
She kept crying and asking why I couldn't look more like Dennis quaid.
Note to self... Do not stick your head in a can of paint and try to paint the walls green with your hair
just passed the gas station where we took pregnancy tests. memories.
Yesterday I febreezed my bed in between gentleman callers
Sorry I can't pick up... thought process is fine but too stoned to form words.
Randomize
