There is a strange man mowing my lawn. Best day ever.
you ended the night by relentlessly sucking on my hips bone and hand demanding milk. you said it was because you were a tiger
but his dog just died...ill send him an edible arrangement or a 6 pack or something
I can hear my fat mexican neighbor yelling "do you like that!" ...I hope its not his dog
I had to carry you down because your legs weren't moving anymore but you were carrying the weights you stole from that guys room... and that's where the bruises came from.
I HAVE MY OWN TITS FOR THAT AND I CAN GUARANTEE THAT THEYRE MORE GLORIOUS
I hate him. I fucked every one of his friends AND his fat brother and he still won't break up with me.
Jesus Christ. If I were a normal sex-having person, I'd think I was knocked up. I'm cycling through emotions like I'm in a decathlon to crazy.
My housemates are judging me because I'm high at 8am and making Spongebob shaped Mac and Cheese
They know nothing, John Stoned.
I spent half an hour sculpting my pubes into a perfect triangle of really short hair, and the first thing he said when he saw it was "Don't you think you need a shave?"
My memory of last night is a delicious blur of tits, ass, and alcohol.
Is it okay to mention my ambition to become a supervillian and kill all humans on a first date, or is that a second date discussion?
I never imagine I'd say this, but can I ask Jeff for the butt plugs back even though it was a gift and we broke up?
You should have thought of that before emitting walrus sounds while intoxicated
Slept in and having coffee. No sounds of whipping and no veiny dildos next to me. This is good. How's your mornin?
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