We succumbed to passion, and then he had to go meet his girlfriend. End of story.
So it's like pop-o-matic trouble, but with penises
Thats the last time I go out drinking with my Irish friends. Two shots of flaming sambucca = bar on fire. I was only trying to high five the barman.
I just had someone call me out on a walk of shame via megaphone
I'm sending you this that that when you wake up and see the girl sleeping next to you, you know who to thank
just as he was about to cum he started shouting "I THINK I CAN! I THINK I CAN!" over and over again.
I had a dream last night that I had sex with Abe Lincoln. I must stop watching the History Channel before I go to bed.
I made him a flow chart of what to do if I got arrested.
Apparently, my drunken 3AM idea of safety is to send a GPS map of my location to someone 700 miles away. Seriously considering death as a viable alternative to this hangover. Death or Yuengling.
I just took a dump to end all dumps. Other dumps have already written ballads about it. It was the Armageddon dump. Bruce Willis was there, it was awful.
Running my fingers through my hair is like that scene from Patch Adams where the girl goes swimming in a pool of spaghetti. I love molly.
I can show you the world. Shining, splimbering vaginaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ugh, my whole family is going ape shit over my sister's pregnancy blog. I dont get it? Anyone can get knocked up! I had rebound sex with a new york ranger last night, now that is something to fucking blog about.
Did you just affectionately call me a scrotum?
I totally fucked your pastor last night.
You're his wife.
Still a dirty get down.
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