There is something depressing about eating toast in a dark living room by myself using a paper plate that says: "Let's Party!"
the only thing i remember last nigh is talking to some chick for thirty minutes about cheese.
I'm calling into work with a wicked case of sledge hammer crotch. She has to understand
Tonight will bring shame to my future grandchildren.
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I have a huge gash on my chin. Did I get it from A) a mini siezure; B) an oral sex incident; C) Slamming it into a ledge or; D) all of the above?
well, obviously he didn't fuck me for my strong moral fiber.
I refuse to apologize. Any dick that comes that close to my face uninvited is gonna get bit
There is a positive side to a sinus infection. Exclusively cowgirl sex. I've convinced her I'd pass out if I had to do the work.
Sadly he is straight as an arrow that is designed by a robot computer from the future with lasers.
This saddens me. Mostly because I want to see the schematics on that robot.
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Did you blackout Saturday before or after we had sex in a random snow bank?
She got drunk on the air plane and pretended to be an elephant for an hour...Atleast the kid behind us enjoyed it.
You better fucking tell me or I'm turning blow job week into go fuck yourself week.
Drunk me commented on almost all of her pictures. My favorite one is titled "be as the sea". My comment is "cold, rough, large and letting anyone come inside you. you accomplished." Guessing I'm not invited to the party anymore.
I trusted a fart in Toronto. NEVER TRUST A FART IN TORONTO.
We’ve got a propane heater on our back porch if you want to come over and eat a McRib in peace
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