he wanted to have sex on the little rocking chair but i was too high to figure out how to do that so we did it on the floor.
It was like riding a jackhammer on a train during an earthquake. THAT amazing.
The prostitute across the street from us is having a seizure on her front lawn again.
He is the Donovan McNabb of stuff up his ass. Tell me that tomorrow. Too high to remember.
She whispered into my eat that she wanted me to fuck her while her parrot watched...
I recommend just blowing him. It's always the way to go.
Lets just fuck. We'll decide if it was makeup or breakup sex after.
I will come over now to take full advantage of you in your vulnerable state.
Fine. I should warn you I just threw up in danas fish tank. Fish are dead. Livers dead. I smell and look like a dead animal. And not showering. So deal with it.
What can I say? I like my food like I like my women, not entirely fucked by our contemporary world.
When you called me you were telling a hobo that you couldn't spare ten bucks bc that was your beer money. All your words were slurred.
Fuck him.
What do I do when my mom and I both awkwardly spot the Rocky Horror parody porn sitting on the coffee table? Leave it or try to move it?
It's like jay gatsby himself preordained that our genitals meet again.
He was the perfect gentleman on our first date. Took me out for candlelit dinner at a fancy restaurant, held open the door, walked me home, and made me cum three times before he got his.
So if you wanna come get your pants you can. But you have to come in your boxers. Rules are rules!
Questions: How did Rachel get home? Why did I find both her ID's in my shoes? And does anyone know if she's alive?
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