There's something fitting about a hot in-car interracial makeout to the tune of 'healing the world.' RIP Mike.
You can do it. What doesn't kill us just drives us to drink
THIS NIGHT WILL NOT GO DICKLESS
six ambien and a bong later...he was calling me blueberry princess who need rescuing from the evil oven, and he was sir Eatsalot.
Her desktop wallpaper is a collage of penises she fucked.
What are you doing? Because if it happens to be drinking, or even any activity that rhymes with "drinking", I'll be over in 5.
We play beat the clock every morning. When the alarm goes off, she hits snooze and drops her panties. If I can't finish in time to beat the snooze, she jumps in the shower and I've gotta jerk off.
Well, maybe we can talk about it over a drink and some crushed up vicodin.
My inner pteradactyl is also confused.
This is not the first time I've recognized my body is subconsciously trying to make pizza.
this periodpocalypse needs to be over. I need head
I shouldn't have watched rise of the planet of the apes and then gotten high. I'm now convinced that the cats are out to get me.
His parents then knew me as the blackout who took care of him and stole his watch
tell raye i said hi and sorry for bleeding on the limes
if I hear Wonderful Christmastime one more time I'm putting my foot up Paul McCartney's ass.
Randomize
