Just fell off a train. Bad.
I was in a threesome last night that turned into a violent domestic dispute with damage to a hotel. Wish you were there!
My corndog is like a popsicle of bread. A WHOLE. POPSICLE. OF BREAD.
He just referred to himself as a sharp shooter. I had sex with that.
My autobiography is now tentatively titled "I'm Fucking the DJ, and Other Ways to Party for Cheap"
He literally said to me "go ahead and answer that text message while I eat you out"... Maybe I AM the relationship type...
You working tonight?
Keg. Hottub. Wearimnh a 8th graders bikini. Mess
I'm two guys short from fucking the whole baseball team and one is gay. I will be successful by the end of this month.
Drinking Patron always ends with me puking or receiving anal. So make your move when I start ordering it.
Cause I'll toss Tabasco sauce in his eyes and yell "Cobra attack" and walk away
I CAN SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF THE ANIMES.
my life is like one bad, slutty lifetime movie.
Is texting an old booty call with "can you still get your ankles behind your ears?" an appropriate way to reemerge into the singles scene???
ps why does my dog smell like popcorn and a dryer sheet..?
Nothing will ever be as awkward as looking my mother in the eye and talking to her while I have a dick inside me. Time for a lock on my door.
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