Dear tim. Christina farted and it smells like kid roses.
The make-up sex just reminded me why we broke up in the first place.
My brother and I both agreed that your boobs are fake.
We went to red robin and there was a 15 minute wait so we went and fucked in the car. Quickies, endless fries, and a mascot handing out balloons- this is literally the night of my dreams.
I made friends with a raccoon. I pet it. Like I was Pocahontas.
Just tried to use the bottle of Sprite in my car as mouthwash to get the taste of puke out of my mouth- it's half vodka. Puked again. Thanks man.
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
Found a guy passed out on the coffee table with a thong duct taped from ear to ear.
Yeah then she waddled like a duck in silence sat down and ate the entire paper towel roll.
I was thinking more like a "sorry you can hear us, but I'm having the best sex of my life" cake
I'm honestly considering asking her if I can eat her out, as a friend.
Is there a greeting card for "I can't keep being The Other Woman"?
I need you to perform a face transplant. Please remove your face from your accounting book and relocate it to where it's most needed - between my legs.
You're going to love the baby's room.
I doubt it. I can't have sex there anymore. That severely limits the appeal of the room to me.
Having a bangable neighbor is going to ruin my booty call game. I refuse to go across town for dick now
Randomize
