Did I get blown in the bathroom? Yes. Did she throw up cranberry juice on my shorts? Yes. Did she finish the job? Yes.
I tried making the sex a little better this time so right before I blew I yelled "ready or not here I come!"
I was just about to go down on her when she gave herself a "smell check" and said "no, not today".
if you google earth my address you can see me getting out of my car. finally my moment of being famous
Her boobs were tiny. I could have used her bra as a blind fold. Which in hindsight would have made things a lot better.
She punched my vomit. In midair. Back into my mouth.
Two questions: what are you doing RIGHT NOW? and do you know how to drive a golf cart?
The polaroid of me taking a test-tube of Jegar out of the gay guys mouth pretty much explains my trip to Spain.
Standing in front of the open refrigerator with a 3/4 empty bottle of wine eating Bac-o's from the jar, topless. Somebody really should've taught me better coping skills.
You'd be surprised at the stuff my vagina tells my brain to say
I was busy. But now I'm about to consume alcohol and chicken. We shall see where this takes us. Maybe to the moon, maybe to the floor. I have no idea.
driving home I had the GPS in one hand and puking in the coffee cup
So no more sangria road trips?
And if I could both stabilize myself *and* pick things up with my penis... Well, I wouldn't be on the fire dept...
Just laying in bed with my vibrator eating cold tortillas and listening to Savage Garden.
who knew my inner goddess was such a whore
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