The last thing I remember is you asking me how to grow french fries.
it was frightening. in my opinion the only thing that should resemble a vagina is a vagina.
i just thought that perhaps i was done with the "boning on someone else's futon" stage of my life. guess not.
We are, if nothing else, classy enough to leave our 10 mini bottles of wine in a polite line on the floor of the movie theater.
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Hahah fuck. I keep looking to make sure that stupid line doesn't show up when my guards are down. Babies can sense fear.
Did you know that scruff feels epic on boobs especially when they are covered in whip cream?
and by clear my head i mean get drunk and cry myself into oblivion.
All of my exes are either overweight and neckbearded or dead. Someone out there is looking out for me.
One of those days. Also, your pants are now in my protective custody.
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Frankly, since I met you, I practically exist in a state of constant readiness for sex
My friend wants your phone number so you can teach her how to take a beer bong. She saw you doing them last night and got jealous.
Just tell her to open her throat. I don't want to talk to anyone who is jealous of someone who woke up this morning with a cat in their shirt as a result of that glorious beer bonging skill.
I met a guy last night who bought me a book on Amazon at the bar and then we had sex. Boners for books is a thing. Boom.
Then, he ate me out while I watched Bo Burnham. Best. Night. Ever.
Soooooooo high. David tried to rinse the water droplets out of the sink for 5 minutes
I’m never getting home or fucked or eating hot Taco Bell fml
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