Let's pretend this is a good idea before I change my mind.
I've never played a more sexually-tense game of Uno in my life.
Just in case you were wondering I sent you a text at 4:37 in the morning because I woke up on the side of the highway at that time
LSHMSFOAIDMT = laughing so hard my sombrero falls off and I drop my taco.
I blacked out at the bar, and blcked in getting a handjob on a roller coaster. Sober me is jealous of drunk me.
I told you, I don't give a SHIT about their music. I JUST. WANT. TO FUCK. THE BASSIST.
Once you mention butt plugs, conversations always take a turn for the worst.
you left the hospital looking like the grudge, your mom and I were pushing you in a wheel chair and you yelled peace out fuckers.
You got pulled on stage by a stripper who wore ruffled ankle socks and did jumping jacks for her dance. Then you were put in a chokehold by a security guard that almost cried because you supposedly said "fuck you!" to him.
The only reason I have clothes in my overnight bag is to cover up my sex toys.
I'm tripping pretty hard right now but every time a Volvo drives by I feel like everything is gonna be alright
Out of ten? A seven. You pulled your shorts down to your ankles, jumped into the pool and announced you were a merman.
Let's just say his oral game was lacking. Hell, lacking is too nice of a word to describe it.
Is it ironic that our divorce court is a block from where we had our reception? Or is it just sad? Alanis has confused my understanding of irony.
Sitting on couch, workout sex makes me more sore than regular workout
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