Nobody needs to come anywhere. Except on your face.
I'm going to write a book about John. It's going to be called big dreams, little dick
it's like a replay of two fridays ago...except not in a motel and i'm not having sex in the shower.
He bought me shots at the bar as his way of of paying me back for Plan B
Judging by my dry clothes and wet sheets, I think I might have gotten out of bed, pissed ON it, covered it up, and passed out on top of it
Is that a tongue signal to get over there? That's how my two heads are taking it.
Just got that "I know what's going on with your vagina" look from that CVS cashier.
You bought MORE?!
It's not so much that I'm giving her money because I threw up on her floor. It's more like I'm paying her to never ever mention it again.
I left the bar I'm on a bench across from the bowling alley taking a nap please come get me. I've had three lollipops.
He showed up at my front door with Plan B and a rose...
His friend still there? Be like "I need to see both of your dicks ASAP"
Your life has no conflict it's just a blur of sex and Netflix
Other than unclothed paranormal encounters, how has your day been
Wow you are like a taller more attractive sex Yoda.
I rewired his car so that every time he hits the gas the horn and the OnStar turn on every time he hits the brake the panic alarm goes off.
Randomize