3am cut off hipster s***'s afro on porch. Opened champagne. Felt like delilah cutting off samson's hair. Then shower & anal. So I guess his powers are intact.
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
this guy literally just gave me a gold star sticker for the "stellar" blow job i gave him. ashamed? i think not.
i think i recognize dicks better than faces
you convinced the bartender to un-cut you off by letting him touch your boobs whenever you ordered a drink.
well... I just junk punched a carnie. Doesnt matter how, it still counts for my bucket list.
I'm doing laundry from this weekend.. That poor shirt I wore to the rave smells like a dead animal that rolled in weed and pain..
My phone just autocorrected 'vagina' to 'vaginihilation'...when exactly did I need to convey total annihilation by lady parts??
Btw any and all sexual fantasies or arousal I had about cops is null and void.
I call him Seabiscuit because he's my trusty steed
Mom told me you snuck booze into a concert in a cheez its box...I have never been prouder to be related to you
Have you ever looked death in the face and have the urge to shit yourself. I'm in that situation right now.
I don't know which is worse, the fact that his name is Kevin or the fact that he has a pornstache.
Why do I always have at least 8 men with whom I am conducting some sort of poorly planned love experiment?
He burst in the bathroom while I was peeing to hand me my beer I was looking for earlier tht night. And my pants were already down so I thought why not
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