I don't remember what your face looks like..
I don't remember your face either, just your dick.
Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
My dermatologist just asked me, "what happened here?" referring to the bruising on my nipples. I told her I walked into a door. Thanks for that awkward moment.
Just got judged by the front desk clerk, 2 maids and a security guard at the Sheraton. I've decided to use this as a character building experience.
I drove 5 hours to see her. She thanked me by getting shitfaced, inviting her boyfriend over, and making me sleep on the couch after I cooked for them and did the dishes. You're right. I'm a fucking doormat.
WHYAREWHITEGUYSSOBADINBED?! What the fuck went wrong, evolution?
Yeah. He can't come because his mom found the pizza box under his bed with my underwear in it. He acted confused, guess because i forgot to tell him..
I have so much boob sweat I could bathe a baby
I just want to have normal problems like what kind of puppy to get, or should I pay a hooker to fuck Scott, or even a dilemma about fucking Twizzlers. I don't know.
There must be a happy medium universe where you get it on with my girlfriend enough to cause me pain but not a full on cardiac arrest. It's a fine line to tread though.
Senior week was like trying to herd cats. Very drunk cats.
You put on a bike helmet, yelled "doesn't matter fuck it" then punched a stick the fire
she's a drunken disney princess. so basically me if i had a crown and no desire for independence.
HAMMERED.. I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with toilet paper instead of bread...
Legit hope my Trump humping Brother dies of this shit so I can stop pretending to still love him.
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