She kept calling me her DD, which I assumed meant designated driver, so I was confused because I don't even have a car. Found out later it means designated dick. It's what her and her friends use as code for the guy they want to hook up with at the end of the night. I feel so used.
areolas are like halos for boobs.
there is a large number of people floating in the fountains the morning in inter-tubes...its only 930. did i miss something?
the beat of "birthday sex" is shockingly similar to my dry heaving rhythm. it's making me nauseous all over again.
I decided to have standards now that i've graduated. No guys without a bed frame.
I knew it was time to leave Waffle House when you started singing "What's Your Fantasy" to your hash browns.
My Grampa even called her out for being a cock block at the bar...it was that serious
I have vodka an food stamps. At some point today, that will undoubtedly turn into jello shots.
it wasn't a normal cookie, i figured that out 45 minutes into my exam
I will forever be haunted by the image of you hurrying to finish your Jimmy Johns sandwich in the Taco Bell drive thru so you could proceed to order $17 dollars worth of shitty Mexican food.
Last comment. I know of no exercises, diets or practices out there to help keeping balls young and healthy. They simply succumb to gravity.
Consider it an appointment to improve my blow job capabilities.
by the way whatever wisdom you imparted upon me last night was lost to whatever i smoked out of a beer can.
I imagine my service panda will provide sufficient protection. At the very least it will be an irresistible cuddly distraction while I make good my escape.
I behisseth at your soul from the deepest darkest depths of the earth
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