My bracket is officially just a list of teams that lost.
I feel as though I could trust her, I mean she did tell me she was married before we had sex.
she walked in on me snorting my prozac. there was no way to convince her i was doing a good thing.
i just figured out how to balance my wine bottle on my boobs so that i don't have to tip it with my hands...breathing has new meaning
I think we should take up crocheing or stamp collecting....something completely lacking penises
Hey, the point is, I have 3 guys to fuck to get over the last one. It's my golden rule. You told me to find a hobby! It translated as "find another guy".
That is the opposite way I told you to find a hobby.
He passed out again after sex. I've hidden all his clothes. There's no way he is sneaking out in the morning this time!
Haunted Houses: fun, lame, or love to sneak off and get fingered in the dark alley way?
They shouted last call and the guy next to me and I looked each other up and down and went in unison "yup, you'll do"
you just have the mind of an innocent, non-tainted child.
YOU KNOW THAT'S BULLSHIT BECAUSE YOU'RE THE REASON IT'S BULLSHIT
I walked in on him jerking it to videos of UFC fighters. The most awkward part: he didn't stop when I walked in.
Did you ever think you lost your bong and then you find it in the weirdest place? I mean, who leaves their bong in the shower?
Fuck it, I'm going to make my own dick pic album since iOS 10 won't do it for me.
So uh... Did you mail me business cards that describe my profession as "tortured soul"?
I feel like any time there's that much rope, lingerie, and horse masks on the ground, it's safe to say it was a great night
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