He can't get past my hymen. At least that's what he said it feels like.
sexting loses it's worth when you accidentally text your boss.
no ping pong balls so we're playing beer pong with an ornament. you can't tell me that's not festive.
A few things for you to consider: 1. Drunk enough that I'm looking up the dictionary definition of Wish. 2. Dictionary.com has new features. 3. Windows is offering me 500 business cards for 5 bucks. 4. I've always wanted a card that says I'm a ninja
Hes warming up week old McDonalds french fries, putting hot sauce on them, and counting them with his shirt off.
Thanks again for allowing my sister to lose her virginity on your bed.
I guarantee that wasn't the first penis someone placed on her forehead.
I found him passed out against a dryer in the girls washroom, in front of an old woman was trying to figure out how to dry her hands.
She just pored wine down the turkeys hole and said that she christened it like the whore that it is...happy thanksgiving.
Apparently my Ambien addled brain last night actually did decide to go ahead and photoshop you into various animal and human molesting scenarios. That's a hell of a thing to wake up to.
Yeah, I'm sure we have time for sex AND ihop.
I don't particularly remember setting a firecracker off in my hand. No more tequila.
Like I could say no to two hot people already naked and fucking. Please. I'm not made of stone.
Twice?!
This week I fucked a police officer and called both the Senators from the state I'm in and the one I'm moving to. What have you done since the election?
We had sex on a couch that was held together by Velcro. Want to know an unsexy sound? Velcro ripping apart under your bare ass.
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