My professor is talking about sperm and all I can think about is my mouth
im at a party in sweatpants, slippers, and a basketball jersey from the eighth grade, 10 bucks says im still getting laid
Even if he doesn't call, at least I can say i fucked a mascot.
He just brought me a wine glass. Full of Tequila. Ignore any texts after this one.
I rarely go in there. Unless it's for mini cadbury eggs and whiskey.
The bartender from Thursday remembered me... And gave me a FLAMING BUCKET of alcohol.
So I managed to get the bitch who has been copying off me all semester in History to copy the names of Pokemon towns off my test.
He was like an artic tracker. Walked ten paces from the tree, then 15 paces from the mailbox, dug down in the snow, and pulled up the case of beer he hid from his parents out there. It tasted like ice cold success.
I don't think I can look at him the same way anymore after he walked in my room wearing a short skirt with a boner.
Man my junk looks like a mangled grapefruit right now, this shit sucks.
I cannot describe the pre-ejaculative horrors thru the medium of text messaging
he taught all the little kids to ski. it was stupid hot. i'm pretty sure my ovaries exploded.
SORRY FOR THE CAPS. I DIDNT CHANGE IT IN TIME AND ITS TOO FAR TO GO BACK NOW. PS IM SUPER BAKED
These rednecks don't fuck around. This party is completely BYOB and we now have 6 kegs, 3 of which have already been emptied.
They left me at home... I'm a liability
Randomize
