You were so trashed that when you dropped your fruit rollup on the floor, you just sat next to it and cried.
yeah i fucked her in the storage room on the inflatable mattress. i don't know if i should feel proud for me or bad for her.
I'm tangled in a fishing net down at the harbor. This has nothing to do with Captain Morgan. Bring wirecutters.
Please make the clown in the corner stop judging me. I mean he's the one with paint on his face. I don't need him judge judying me.
This guy needs to come out; I can feel him sucking my dick from across the room.
You know it's time to cut back when your unemployed drug dealer roommate tells you that you party too hard.
In either case, seeing now as it's basically two couples, unless we're planning to have a good old fashion orgy I think this isn't going to work out so well.
We play this game where we catch up on what we missed over five years of not talking to eachother, then we have sex like nothing ever happened.
YET AGAIN, my financial planning for 2013 consists MOSTLY of eating chipotle as "brain food" and drinking Heavily before the Jeopardy contestant test.
So my quick shower turned into a "lay in the shower and let the hot water reign over you because you are too hungover to wash your hair" shower. I'll be there closer to 1:30!
The perfect man would keep a whisky sour in my hand and give me endless sex. I really don't think that's too much to ask for.
Being responsible doesn't make memories.
You stopped loving me for a minute.
You sent me "Is nap," I don't think that really counts as a conversation starter.
fucking him is like fucking old faithful. you could set your watch by his orgasms.
anything below 65° is too cold to be naked on a roof
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