Decided to write a book called "girls don't poop and other myths I wish I still believed in"
And he just showed me his vera bradley wallet...
The remote chance that I may get a blowjob is about the only reason I have a shower every day.
We have to talk through the words with friends chat so his gf won't find out
He jacked off on my pillow when he found out I left. It was like coming home and finding that your dog, with separation anxiety, had pooped in your shoes. I think I'm flattered...
I remember coming home with a cat... I havent seen it all day. Shit.
Well, I looked over and you and him were each making out with a fireman. And then you switched. And you probably spent an hour like that.
it's just one of those nights where i don't care if anyone sees my vagina
Today's forecast is horny with strong chance of booty calls. Low of Craigslist cruising, and a high of climaxing in a stranger's bed.
Nope if you can't be there for me emotionally, then my vagina can't be there for you physically. That's my rule.
Then she said I give the best mouth hugs and bar went silent.
With a few pieces of metal and duct tape and a bong was created
I got his number because he was "impressed with how much I could handle"...I was chasing shots with Olive Garden breadsticks...
I'm seriously considering selling my books back early. I don't use them anyways and I could really use the beer money..
I woke up with an empty beer bottle in my slipper and a note that said "it just wants to be warm"
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