So I'm pretty sure when I was giving a Birthday Blow J, he went to grab my boob, but grabbed a fat roll and asked "You're not wearing a bra?"
two words: eviction party
I woke up to a paper award certificate for best blow job and he was gone. You're welcome mystey man.
Just checked my bank account while shitting blood. Neither action felt good when I was done.
And I can say one thing, I look pretty good in high wasted pants. I don't know if that helps. But I do. God I'm high.
Can I steal her, take her home, and feed her only vodka?
My body is like , remember when you wouldn't let me puke last night? Good luck at work fucker.
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
I genuinely attribute some of my blowjob skills to playing saxophone in highschool
I called you daddy and let you stick things in my butt, I am a damn 11.
Its only once in a life time you get to pick your vcard swiper up from jail
So I'm trying to figure out how to talk my boss into allowing pajama day once a week. Any ideas?
I dont understand why i cant be a wizard
I could have sworn that I went home last night... but judging from the couch I just woke up on, apparently not.
I farted in the parking garage and it echoed.
Randomize
