My grandmother just called to say she disowned me. Apparently I uploaded a video to Youtube of me dancing nude with a blow-up doll named Dorothy, last night. You are so fired from being damage control.
you told all the 17 year old girls at the party that your mating call was "I glitter in the sun"
the moment we started interpretive dancing last night wouldve been a good time to stop drinking.
he told me he was watching a movie and he'd be over later and i asked how long. he said 8 inches give or take. you cease to amaze me with the guys you set me up with.
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Just pulled back my covers. Jizz. Jizz everywhere. Hipster jizz everywhere on my only set of sheets.
Dude, you bit through my nipple. Give it a week, damn.
You better fucking tell me or I'm turning blow job week into go fuck yourself week.
just sex-dialed 911. that's 34 seconds of dignity i will never get back.
wouldn't be a true Fourth of July without dropping acid at 9pm on a Monday
FREEDOM
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He managed to rip my nipple last night....
I was floored. Like way less concerned with him using drugs than I am with him not believing in evolution.
Apparently she hired a private investigator when he took out a restraining order on her. So the answer is no, I didn't hit it.
If you can't trust the person at the taco cabana drive thru, who can you trust?!
I'm sure he likes you too... but your boyfriend is kind of a cockblock
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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