My sheets at my parents place are clean. No braveheart but I can paint myself, yell "freedom", and sword fight you with my cock. So come over.
At the bar. Guy comes up wearing a hollister shirt and says "lets blow this popsicle stand"
You fucking left with him didn't you?!
I'm home and safer than post-menopausal sex; you're welcome for the image. And yes, I did just use a semi-colon hammered.
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
I have a king size bed, I guarantee multiple orgasms, and I'll give you a ride home in the morning. Respond quickly.
Evidently I told a girl she should leave the bar because no one wanted to fuck her.
It was your ex but it was not eighties night, it was pudding wrestling. And either thank you or I'm sorry depending on the state of my pants left on the doorstep
Life Epiphany- I need to have children so I can be the drunk grandma at family functions. Its my destiny.
Sex on the scooter in the parking lot wasn't the smartest idea. Actual quote from the cop as he handed me the ticket and fist bumped me.
Opened the apartment door and the smell of sex and weed literally slapped me across the face. Kudos.
Don't do shots out of Tostitos scoops.
I feel like my life just hangs in the balance of "Yeah I'm probably not doing this right"
Oh my fucking god, I was conceived on the first date.
How do you tell a vegan you want him to stuff you like a turkey?
Just had the biggest masturbatory crisis ever.
What does that mean?
Internet is down.
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