His moose knuckle keeps winkin at me
I'm starving. my midnight snack, aka a teaspoon of cum, isn't holding me over
You kept calling me your small dog last night.
Listen, this was just a tiny lapse of judgement.
I'm pretty sure that's not a synonym for pregnancy.
Well the walls are thin and I can hear the couple next door having sex. I think their dog is somehow involved.
You insisted on calling your mixture of Bacardi & powdered milk "a Jamacian Facial."
I will no longer accept being cock blocked in my own bed.
Wednesday is my day of reflection and making my dick and balls into shapes. So i'll be pretty busy.
Meant to have fun, ended up giving speech about consent to guy at bar. Feminist side feels happy. Orgasms side feels confused and betrayed.
Gay bathhouses. They're actually a thing. So god does exist. And he doesn't hate me as much as you think he does
so as he was cumming he sort of growled with one eye squinted... for a moment there I thought I was fucking Popeye
Gotcha. How bad is it?
Well to compare it to something I would say it what's that walls would like inside the primate exhibit at the zoo after a group of monkeys finished throwing feces at each other all afternoon
Poor guy. Tried so hard to get out of the friend zone. I had to make out with someone in front of him to put him in his place.
I left at 4:30 in the morning and I told him it was because I had to take my contacts out
What did we do last night and why in the fuck were there carrots in my pocket?
Randomize
