the smoke from my cigarette strangely resembles what patrick swayzes ghost will look like.
Your dick is once again the conversation topic.
You need to come back and get me. This is not a jersey shore party and he is not dressed as Pauly D and I am about one shot away from hooking up with a real fist pumping Guido.
Going to eat lunch. Bunch of people in church clothes, and we are hungover, wearing pajamas, and in real danger of puking on the floor. We're about to destroy the ambience of this joint.
He plays me like an instrument...he is the Carlos Santana of my vagina.
Yep we found him face down in my sister's bathroom begging for blowjobs without mustard
If by any chance I go to the hospital make sure you stuff a pint in my pockets so I can keep up.
I think my cats understand what porn is. And it's all my fault.
Apparently I was so drunk I threw my entire wallet at the stripper on stage. That was the third time I should've gotten kicked out.
I barely even remember him. He is just a distant beard in my past.
It's like getting ready for my vaginas own execution
Dave used his AAA card to get my car towed to my house so I could get drunk. Evil genius.
From time to time I think I'm happy for a second and then I remember how a guy stopped me from giving him head on my birthday weekend.
Hey I didn't mean to be all lemme get with your ex husband.
So, left this guys house wearing a #1 Grandpa shirt and I think this is the best sex score I've ever had.
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