That adds atleast one bjs worth of awkward sexual tension between us.
Dude, she looked like the Canadian Slam Poet, neck hair and all.
They had to restock the bar 3 times before midnight. There is a bridesmaid dress hanging in a tree outside.
I'm making celebratory pizza rolls. They're a lot like regular pizza rolls, but without the taste of shame.
He rode a broom down the stairs while we were mattress surfing. Naked. Buck ass naked. WTF
Beautiful wedding. Beautiful bride. I got shitfaced. Came home and ate two corndogs. I'm still single.
From now on I forbid you to refer to it as a "bed". From now on you must only use the phrase "sex wagon".
We should have a bouncer at the top of our stairs asking the guys we bring home for ID...
I started blowing him in North Dakota, and I finished the job in Minnesota. Oh, the places road head can take you.
So, seriously. How does it feel to know that you're riding a cock that was in kindergarten when you were going to prom?
When have we listened to the rational side of either of us?!
He offered me a trade. He'll come sober to my parents 25th anniversary dinner if I let him tie me up for an hour.
Update. bondage is a lot harder than it looks.
I am a delicate flower. A fucked up, drunk, horny, pants pissing, delicate little flower.
I love you but this is the first Saturday I have ever spent at the police station. And where are my boxers?
Told a guy at the bar I was hurricane evacuees with no place to stay. Just woke up at his place. God bless Florence
Randomize
