Let's just say there is a bloody hand print above my bed and it's not mine. Literally.
It's like sleeping with someone you met at a karaoke bar. It's never okay.
Reach down the front of your pants and feel around for a while. When you find your balls, leave the library and meet me at the bar.
remember what we learned. dont lure girls w/ food at the bar. u dont want those ones
no. it doesnt count as road head if youre parked
It was actually pretty good. His cock is as fat as the rest of him and I took out my contacts so I couldn't see him clearly.
the doctor said its the kinda of pregnant you dont recover from
Good idea. You gotta take care of your vagina. She takes care of you. Pay it forward.
I hear youre working today. To keep you entertained, ive compiled a list of condiments that my dick has NOT been slathered in since last Friday: Relish, and raspberry jam. That's right.
You know you're an adult when you break 100 to get 75 cents, to buy a condom from a bar vending machine in South Boston.
My walk of shame was 2 miles of feathers flying off of me, underwear in hand, and a homeless man telling me he'd pray for me. It was gold medal worthy.
you walked in, put on rap music and started chugging vodka
My kid just put flowers in my hair to make me pretty, then showed my boobs to an entire playground. He's either the best wingman or the worst.
Babe, Have you see my pants?
Try Jay street in Brooklyn.. that's where I last remember seeing them.
I'm doing my drinking workout. 20 pushups for each beer I finish. I should write a fucking book
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