Bigbird is at the bar Im at. whats her name
It's not my theme song, it's my blowjob song. There's a difference.
Turned out the thing on the lampshade was a bloodstain, not a bedbug. We feel much safer now.
It's like a puppy that we have to take care of at all times or else she'll get sad, lonely, and chew on the furniture. And by 'chew on the furniture', I mean have anonymous sex.
Her inability to understand the word "moderation" is the achille's heel of an otherwise perfect human
Nothing says never again like hurling in the shower.
I'm sorry I drunk dialed you before realizing that you were already in bed with me.
Or I could hide in your trunk so you can sneak out of putt putt for sex breaks
He tried to do the do on me last night and my exact words were "stay away from my princess parts. they're renovating."
She said she wouldn't get out of hand. When the cops showed up she jumped off the 4ft high porch and fell into a ditch. She then buried herself because she was wearing light pants and though the light from the cops flashlights would reflect off her pants. We couldn't find her for 40 minutes.
No other way to put this but the dick was not worth him crying for an hour after. No more online hookups.
Leave it to me to pull up my boyfriend’s grandfather’s obituary just to find out the name of his sister.
By the way I can not feel my vagina. It's like it's asleep. What the hell did you do?
I said, hypothetically speaking, if I was going to be having some rough sex Friday night, when WOULD be the best time for a massage, mother dear?
He ate me out in a golf cart while I watched the sunset. You are so right, golf skirts do provide amazing access.
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