So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
I couldn't get internet on my iPod in this hotel room for porn, so I made due with UFC.
I'm not sure what to say to that.
And if you don't call me, I will embarrass you publicly with a can of spray cheez.
he thanks me after handjobs.
you found the perfect man.
Can't. I took a Viagra to make sure I wouldnt leave the room so I might actually study.
If you have a glass table... Put it up. I don't wanna hurt myself again, I just got my stitches out...
well, obviously he didn't fuck me for my strong moral fiber.
I woke up to him yelling "WHO SLEEPS WITH A BEER IN THEIR HAND?!?" this of course, startled me awake and made me spill the aforementioned beer. So I guess the a answer is- not this girl, not anymore. Asshole
They are the perfect team. One always has weed, the other always has cigarettes. They're like the Batman and Robin of drugs
At tuba camp, the pickings are slim. It's like being the tallest midget.
He spelled Steven with "ph", needless to say my nose was almost bleeding from the amount of axe he was wearing.
I'm literally in my bed still trying to find the energy to take my corset off so I can binge eat oreos
You took his virginity and then he got lost on his way back to his hotel room... We found him at 3am sitting on the sidewalk crying. Kudos.
That portable toilet under the bed? Turns out it was a tuba. Explains alot.
How does it make you feel that I can't control my vagina around you?
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