I think I won the penis lottery.
Must be January. Theres a fat chick on an elliptical wearing khaki capris. Someone doesnt own any workout clothes
Countdown til Saturday. I'd assume we're somewhere around 10,000 bottles of beer on the wall.
you were making out, puked over his shoulder and insisted everything was okay
I woke up to a paper award certificate for best blow job and he was gone. You're welcome mystey man.
I just jerked off and used a stopwatch to track my results. Pretty depressing on multiple fronts.
I mean I'm forever immortalized as the one who puked in his dad's straw hat.
I've never seen a grown man cry so much after getting jerked off by a stripper. I say it's the best $600 he ever spent.
I hear youre working today. To keep you entertained, ive compiled a list of condiments that my dick has NOT been slathered in since last Friday: Relish, and raspberry jam. That's right.
Relationships are fuckin' work. And you can't just up and leave with no questions when you really just need to get home because you're about to shit your pants.
You're so wise.
You left a motherfucking bruise. ON MY TIT. How? How do you even. No.
Negotiating with my body. We're ok. Violent upheaval is not necessary.
Don't let me publish my memoir unless "hurt my ankle drunk irish dancing" is at least the title of a chapter because that is really the whole story of my life.
I was like sure, i'll have a drink or two to end the night early. Next thing i know theres a ton of dudes in my house and like 3 gallons of wine. I cant do anything in moderation.
welp, we watched the human centipede high last night and my mind literally shut down, when i came to all i could hear was mel saying EAT EAT HIS SHIT
Randomize
