I just want a better ending for myself. Not walking around with one sock on and my bush hanging out.
Internet sex stories have completely ruined the word sopping for me.
Dude. She told me she felt bad for not giving me more blojobs. HOW COULD THAT HAVE GONE BETTER?
I woke up on a futon in some strangers house. They were eating pizza and told me everything was going to be fine.
I just couldn't load the family groceries on to the same seat where I had sex 12 hours ago.
she sent me pictures of 3 different vaginas and if I could pick which one was hers i could sleep with her.
I was always good at matching as a child.
I walked from the hotel to the club with a pint of tequila in my boot. Poured some in a homeless woman's mouth when she asked for change. I've hit rock bottom.
THAT FUCKER WASTED TWO OF MY COLORED CONDOMS! HE DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING FINISH IN IT HE JUST SLAPPED IT ON AND WASTED IT!
I took "we live within stumbling distance of the bar" as an invitation and challenge
i stole nothing, broke nothing, and stabbed nothing. aren't you proud of me?
You are the tramp this city needs, but not the one it deserves.
Home-made laxative recipe: activia yogurt and tequila shots. Any ratio ought to work.
I don't need my coworkers thinking I'm a nutcase.
You gift wrapped a tampon.
man fuck you i am a delight. you're the one who fucking set his tree on fire while high
how do I say, without sounding slutty... That I can take a dick?
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