I wouldn't necessarily call it an addiction, more of a passion. I'm habitually passionate.
I just introduced him to multiple male orgasms. I love wine AND tequila
apparently it was the return of drunk burrito sex.
I woke up to him drunk-t-bagging me, saying "huevos rancheros" were being served for breakfast.
I am in macy's and just straight up heard an old lady taking a crap in her depends.
Happiness for him is a different happiness than you can supply cuz you have life standards, morals and goals that dont include the bar or beer everynight.
I have their Unicorn picture in my shirt, and I just threw a Bud Light Platinum bottle through their window. We need to go now.
PLEASE. I won't throw up on the floor this time. Or fuck in the bathroom. Or dance on the pool table. So PLEASE.
I did sing regulators with a random black dude at The Rail without looking at the screen, hugged him and walked off stage. I pretty much live up to all expectations.
The beer bottle was sticking out of your zipper and you shook it onto unsuspecting patrons
I don't trust his life but I trust his penis.
She's too awesome to dump: she gives me great blow jobs and free Popeyes. You just don't burn a bridge like that.
As soon as he called me 'darling' in that Scottish accent... my pants just dropped.
Maybe those shots of hot dog water wasn’t a good idea after killing a fifth of tequila.. but who’s askin
he asked me for a magic BJ...is that supposed to be different from a normal BJ?
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