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.
How come it tastes like onions whenever I go down on her?
Banjos are just sex machines. Like lights to moths, banjos are to hipster bitches.
We basically counted to 3 and then dumped each other.
Thats about the time I should have known you would run around naked and try to make out with my sleeping mother
That adds atleast one bjs worth of awkward sexual tension between us.
The one from last night got me a whole floor of Eskimo Brothers. There was a celebration of high fiving as I left
We're celebrating his weight gain and arrest.and by we I mean I, and by celebrating I mean getting dangerously drunk
Things I just found under my covers: protein bar, string cheese, vibrator.
Welcome to the south, dude. Gives the phrase "I wish you a dry ass" a new perspective.
I sat on my couch last night watching What Women Want, eating ice cream, and sobbing "why doesn't she like me?" Why was I born a man?
I have his gate key so know he has to see me again.
Your penis caused this!
I must be pretty memorable. I was walking past this dude and he goes "There's the Scotch Girl." I have ZERO clue who he is, but I'm definitely the Scotch Girl.
Point in my hangover when I'm honestly not sure if I'm about to puke, or shit my pants.
Randomize
