I just had the fat girl at the party come tell me I look sad and offer me a beer. I'm out.
I woke up covered in my own vomit with a pocket full of napkins. I guess I knew I would need them, but was not coherent enough to use them before passing out.
I asked about his 3 inch scar on his chest. It's from when he had to castrate a bull on the estancia. Apparently this is how good bull meat is made.
through my window right now you can see the hot chick next door is standing BUTT ASS NAKED eating peanut butter off a knife.
ill be there in 5.
That's because you're a slut. A slut fucking a fence.
He brought a jar of pickles to the party. So now I've had beer, animal crackers, AND a pickle since noon.
The best revenge is living well. Or pooping in his sunroof. Either or
Trustme, don't ever look up when you're giving road head. It's awkward.
Whenever you get off. By "pick me up from work" I mean, "pick me up from a bar by work at your earliest convenience" :)
You need a sexual gate keeper
I'm a hopeless romantic that likes rough sex. Judge me
I yield to the immortal wisdom of one ludacris, who famously wrote, "can't turn a hoe in to a housewife." Indeed, ludacris, indeed.
I want to see a guy holding a pizza and a bottle of scotch and a box of magnums. I'm a simple woman.
you said "it's karaoke night" and tried to use my dick as a microphone
I did crash a prom last night though.. It was fun
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