I look like a sausage in jean shorts, you should have woken up earlier and approved my outfit.
For what it's worth, your chances of anal go up the more she loves you. There's always a silver lining.
To say he's a good fuck is like saying the beatles had a bit of success. My vag is still mourning the fact he moved.
I think if I set up a series of baby gates up the stairs each one more difficult to undo then the last that should be able to stop your drunk vagina.
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Found trail of ibuprofen on ground. I'm like the intervention version of e.t.
I'm having mini little movies in my head. Like for example. You were talking to a blue whale with jazz man sunglasses, but not the ray charles jazz sunglass. More like sunglasses that are round. Anyway, he has a baguette and stupid french hat. And you , you had your harry potter glasses.
Judging by the fact that he asked me if i wanted to serenade him using cocaine and Taylor Swift I'd say I so have it in the bag.
What does it say about my expectations if I'm pounding three beers the hour before a date?
I just bottomed with the last unicorn playing in the background. I've hit a new level of gay.
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My trash can accurately represents my weekend: Bojangles wrappers and magnums.
Somehow i instagrammed my acceptance letter while blacked out. Then my grandma was the first to comment on it. I got over 50 likes....Phd here I come....
You snapped me at 3am drunk laying on your floor asking if I knew how we couldn't have predicted the housing crisis.
Wait, I'm confused. I EMPTIED the bottle? as in consumed it? I'm impressed with myself.
It's like his penis moved in and did some interior decorating without telling me first...
He couldn’t find my clit with a map. Literally. I drew him a map.
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