Who would have guessed that ordering a vodka lemonade at Roscoe's was code for I want a hand job
I woke up this morning with my shirt on upside down.
You mean inside out.
No, upside down. I ripped the neck hole in the process of getting it around my waist.
I want to see you every morning in the kitchen ass naykid on roller blades making pancakes.
Stop sending me these texts. This is your mom, not your girlfriend.
Now that the olympics are over we have no excuse for getting belligerently drunk for nationalism every night.
After I gave him a handjob for a half an hour he told me I should be a taxidermist. I'm gonna take it as a compliment.
The only requirement is that his name is Kevin... All other factors don't matter to drunk me. Drunk me likey Kevins.
I decided that Calgary can keep my underwear. They earned it.
There is only one good excuse for how sore I am right now. And that is incredibly acrobatic sex. Unfortunately for me that is not my excuse.
Exotic beer tasting at my apt right now and by that I mean I bought random beer and I'm drinking it on my balcony
The only difference is Iv never super glued straws to your nipples.
I mean, two foreign guys have drunkenly confessed their love for her, so she's clearly doing something right.
In order to see him, he made me facetime with his penis, which he had drawn a smile face on. Getting laid shouldn't be this difficult.
He didn't get laid that weekend.. and that is honestly an accomplishment for the rest of us.
I got home and he was wearing a suit. He said he reason was because it was shirt and tie Saturday and that he won't change until midnight. He then proceeded to answer the door in a British accent.
He ate me out on a washing machine in the 24 hour laundromat. Whoever watches that security camera footage is getting a show!
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