i'm watching a show about a girl who died from masterbating with a carrot. A FUCKING CARROT, EMILY! YOU NEED TO BE CAREFUL!
And then he said "I can't get blown while Gordon Bombay and Mr. Holland stare at me from the TV"
There is no excuse for watching a Jesse McCartney movie.
I just told you I can't. My fingers are melting. I have discovered the high.
Why is it only times like these when I'm scrubbing the cum stains off my futon before my family gets here that I seriously begin to question my life choices?
Hope you don't mind if I never tell my family about you.
after all you did bang a few mechanics. you must have got some second hand skills by now for building us a go kart.
You screamed at oncoming traffic , "five dollars to punch this guy in taint!".
So do you want to be the old guy picking up a girl in a mini skirt who may be slightly buzzed before noon from college, or shall i walk over?
I'm really sorry I hooked up with your student on the dance floor..
I want to die, ON THAT, with that INSIDE ME. ironically, I sense that would be the only time I'd feel alive.
So if I run into you on the street, I'm supposed to just stop drop and suck your dick?
that guy was staring at your tits.
nah, more like they were staring at him, and his girlfriend, and her less than adequate bosom. they pitied the fool.
point taken, oh mistress of the bosoms.
i just wanted have a romantic star gaze moment with him. untill he let out a massive fart.
Periods are much less exciting when you're not sexually active.
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