I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
So I've been thinking a lot since she told me she's prego. But what I want to know is why my voice of reason sounds like Thomas fucking Jane!?
Damn it, I know in the morning I'm going to regret eating out of the trash...
Hate is such a strong word! I prefer to think that you strongly dislike me due to the honesty I show towards your routine shortcomings of success in life.
I wore sweatpants. When I show up to a booty call in sweatpants there's your warning
I don't have patience to seek someone out and try to decipher whether or not I think I'd want to actually have their dick in my face.
These welts and bruises from letting gay boys whip my thighs last night are a clear indication i should lay off the tequila.
This guy is trying to get me to do some acrobatic gymnast shit just so he can see "my tight hole." I'm too big to be sweating in my own damn bed. Shittttt.
I just remembered I made you punch yourself in the face last night and I would like to formally apologize for that even though it was hilarious.
Like who turns down taking a nap inside of someone in 2014.
Having sex with my girlfriend wearing my old Tom Brady jersey on the day he's freed is the closest I'll come to a 3way with Tom
I'll tell you that it involved a pair of pliers and a trip to the ER.
I demand a full explanation right now.
His cat just sat there and simultaneously bobbed his head up and down while I blew him
However many condoms you have, it isn't enough.
As of right now, my vibrator and a bag of snickers share the same drawer
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