you started whispering 'the itsy bitsy spider' while you were putting your hands up my shorts.
This is why you don't make out with cougars at a bar... I got a linkedin request from her, wtf?
I just typed 14 shots of Smirnoff into my calorie count toolbar. Then typed pole dancing 1.5hrs into the calorie burner search. Should break even.
I am solely responsible for the birth of their child. I mean, I did push them into the room and hold the door shut yelling "punch that kitty!". It has to be a sign.
Not enough clothes on. Not enough vagina. Not enough drugs in my body.
One of those nights had to have been when we tried to walk through the McDonald's drive through -- and then got in the car with complete strangers. And stole their hamburgers.
They're not that bad of drunks, they come back to the vehicle with more stuff than they went in with, so its a profitable venture.
If making out with three guys at once at a Kesha concert while simultaneously smearing glitter all over yourself doesn't convince her you're gay, nothing will
I just want a man to crawl into my bed with me and never crawl out. Anti socialism at his best.
And I made some girl take out the trash, load and unload the dishwasher, swifter, and clean the counters. So don't act like I don't do anything.
Dead. I am actually dead. Also, worst nightmare confirmed: throwing up in a four hundred person lecture.
She rode my dick so hard I momentarily lost hearing. I guarantee I had the better St Patrick's.
We went from him going down on me to swapping baby pictures of our moms.
At one point she put on my dads pants and yelled after him EMILIOOOO! Dude, my dads name is Mark.
He doesn't understand the concept of a strip club. He keeps falling in love
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