and before you know it i was laying next to him at 2 in the morning with penis and sadness on my breath.
I mean come on, he's the best quarterback in the state and doesn't even know how to put on condom
Its what jesus would do if there were bud light in his time. I feel obligated.
I just used 'come play with my balls' as a legitimate booty call attempt. And it worked.
I mean you can't really blame him. He's named after whiskey and I don't get along with pants.
According to you, you were with your "Eskimo bro for life" last night.
I had to sit there with his three fat aunts talking about a bunch of 50 Shades knockoff books.
I felt like a taxi, but my meter was running up minutes he would be eating me out that night.
Apparently drinking in your car before going into a sales meeting is frowned upon. We are car sales men not doctors.
I yelled at the dude who smoked him up "YOU'RE THE REASON I'M NOT GETTING LAID" then went to bed. So yeah, I guess it was an ok night.
It's a little weird that I'm blowing my wingman.
I fucking hate tequila. Tequila makes me hate pants.
I just projectile vomited into my kitchen sink. Today need to be over already.
Crust to egg proportion prescribes to a pedantic form of quiche. It's like saying breakfast pizza isn't pizza at all.
As a rule...I don't sleep with my friends or watch movies with talking dogs
dude, next time you say lets go on an adventure, tell me if there are going to be psychotrophics involved before hand.
Randomize
