Stop. You don't mean that. Tequila might mean that. But you don't mean that.
The more I throw up, the more I am remembering exactly what I drank last night...in order.
I just blindly shoved it in. I'm still not sure which hole I got.
And then you gave the bride a high five and said "Go forth and Consummate."
I'm in new territory... I've never had to convince a guy to let me give him head as an apology.
I spent an hour trying to convert bar outfits to church outfits. Its hard.
Well that's another check off the sexual bucketlist of things I never wanted to experience.
I'm looking at some sugar baby profiles to get some insight on what we're up against.
This is the fourth day in a row I've walked outside in the same pajamas. I think the neighbors have finally given up on judging me.
Either you got hacked or we need to have a serious discussion about sending penis enlargement emails to your straight friends and why you shouldn't. It sends the wrong message.
To give you an idea, there's a group upstairs trying to break down a door with their fists and heads.
Only I could host a baby shower where the cops get called.
Tell the cops to let you through! Tell them you need to do drugs!
I may have just tried to argue quantum entanglement as the reason I was still in her bed.
I can't believe we broke the fucking lamp.
*i* can't believe believe we broke the lamp fucking.
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