I knocked on some strangers door, you didn't have to give me a fake hotel room number
We need to start having sex underwater more often.
this morning i woke up under the kitchen table. i went to my room and there was an inflatable whale in my bed with a banana duct taped to where its penis should be. there were trails of cheez-its around my apartment and i found $67 in the crotch of my underwear. im guessing i had a very happy birthday.
He gave me a promise ring. He promised that he will imagine me as every girl he fucks in college.
I'm doing laundry in pjs and heels, home alone with my margarita bucket.
He told me that "my little fuckpig" was a term of endearment in Britain. I think I'm in love.
I think my uterus is still laying in your bed somewhere under the covers.
Dont tell her I prefer to have an aura of mystique surronding me and my penis.
Heard puking from next door. Looks like the third floor won't be any different than the second.
Not sure if it's my shorts, hat, shoes, hair or soul but one of the above just got me drunk again from the glorious aroma of Keystone Light.
there is nothing more depressing than your birth control alarm going off while you're masturbating, and realizing you've been taking pointless precautions for over a month now.
I mean your new thing is losing body parts and feeling colors so its not like we are hurting for entertainment
I'm gonna take a nap by the fireplace and pretend like I know what day it is.
My book, "How to Live With a Huge Penis" was delivered today. Can't wait to read it in public.
I wish drunk me came with subtitles
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