I'm sooo using this pickup line: "Baby, its not the 2.5 inches... Its the 200 pounds behind it"
I'll put it this way. My grandkids felt that fuck.
I can't. He's too cute and my tongue is too long.
Because selling drugs to kids never goes out of business. We get older, they stay the same stupid.
I do wanna see you. And we can just lay here and watch a movie and listen to me cry.
Holy hangover, going dancing with family good idea, taking the last shot with the transvestite bar owner not so much...
Its funny that for once I get home and I'm just as high as my parents are.
We had sex and he ended up in the hospital... don't know if I should be worried or proud.
Ok, maybe playing "whose family is most dysfunctional" wasn't the best drunk idea we've had. Todd''s been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can't get him out...
it'll be like the notebook except for with way more of my penis
I'm not drinking for the rest of the week. I need discipline, celery, dick, and a bible.
I wore my old cheerleading uniform.. He came before I even touched his dick. Should I be irritated, or flattered?
It is like...the most transformative hard on I have ever had.
It's not even noon yet and I just fucked my professor's son in the psych lab..it's gonna be a great day.
It’s amazing such a big dick belongs to such a boring guy
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