the cure to his relationship is in or around my vagina.
I am tired of kissing girls with mustaches.
he stopped mid-fuck to ask me how my day was....
So two questions...why am I covered in muffins and are there pictures of this.
We are NOT roofying him just to get him to pass out so we can build a masive snow cock in his yard.
She came over and gave me a handy and then just lingered for a day and a half. Worst weekend ever.
So I cleaned out my gym bag. Found half a bottle of malibu.
You know, I could pretend I'm shocked but what's the use?
i took a picture of my dick. with a stick figure drawn on it. and a paper hat taped to the tip. and i call i the mayor of Dickville
red lips, whiskey sips, shaking hips, nipple slips. my life as a rap song.
Never backflip into an above ground pool. I think the gash will be smaller by Monday though.
Hope you had your fill for the summer my friend, because all the cleavage has been put away for the winter. Fear not; it blooms again in May.
I asked if I could borrow some condoms. She referred to herself as "a soup kitchen for whores".
I got to see a stripper that did magic last night. It was glorious.
Update: just imagined being dirty talked to in an Irish brogue and I think my vagina became a sentient being.
I just woke up in his bed.. in a cardboard castle, with a Justin Bieber poster on the ceiling staring down at me, cuddling with 4 empty PBR cans. I win.
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