We can make salsa ya know, maybe even some hot sauce. That doesn't mean we're married.
I had to stop messing around with him for fear of laughing in his face. I swear it was a pinky finger in his pants
This is drunk me apologizing to sober me in advance.. I am sprry about you're trashed house. Mom an dad will be home by 5 so get up and clean. P.s. Mike is in the closet passed out.
Listen, this was just a tiny lapse of judgement.
I'm pretty sure that's not a synonym for pregnancy.
I've taken to hiding pictures of us around his room so that he'll forever feel guilty for dumping me on Valentine's Day... And to potentially cock block any hook ups.
Can't decide which I like more. Telling a girl she's pregnant or telling her she has herpes. It's the little things that make medicine tolerable.
I hope my orgasm sounds aren't secretly that bad and no one tells me
How does this dude know what a dying walrus sounds like? That's the real question
I'd like to stay optimistic, but I have this nagging suspicion my penis is in for a disappointing holiday weekend.
You are so lucky you didn't go back to Tate's house. They decided to figure out who had the biggest balls... I was the judge
I'm sitting on the floor singing Bruno mars while they cook and occasionally pet me
It tastes like you we're too lazy to shower and instead just sprayed yourself with Febreeze.
You have a very discerning palate.
I spent the last 6 months operating under the assumption that I HADNT fucked a paramedic. I was wrong.
I've come to the conclusion that my issue is I'm not fucking a guy with a headboard
Dude, I'm at a wedding and there's a mashed potato bar and bacon strip appetizers. I'm getting all emotional.
I may have been bent over an elementary school lunch table a few weeks ago. Don't judge.
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