i just discovered how you can fold down the cardboard sleeve on a hot pocket. Life just got a whole lot easier.
I can't even go pee because I'm making sure he doesn't run off somewhere naked.
bark. im thoroughly looking forward to kegs and eggs. next weekend should be pancakes and pinnical, then cereal and seagrams and then whiskey and waffles.
also, just kill me. literally hit me with a vehicle, or an aircraft, something that will ultimately make me forget tonight.
he doesn't even text me anymore.. he just facebook chats me a shark emoticon which has turned into code for 'be naked at my house in 15 mins'
I think the solution to your phobia is an open relationship with your dildo. about the same responsibility as a pet rock
When you sober up and come in here, I'm in your bed because you pissed on me in mine. So fuck. Off.
We're not on Beacon Street anymore so now your argument about not peeing on the sidewalk holds no water. Whereas my bladder has holded every water.
She had a cast on when I met her, but she blamed me for breaking her arm this morning. I'm gonna marry this girl.
I keep thinking your bag of thongs is a bag of chips. So mad I can't eat them.
I hope to God it's not the new neighbors having sex, because what I'm hearing sounds like a mildly defective vuvuzela or a cow giving birth.
Our conversation concluded a weekly schedule of casual sex in between classes.
I don't care what you say about him, his cock is the stuff dreams are made of.
OH MY GOD did i pee on you?!
I’ve looked at so many mouse vaginas in the past week
Randomize
