Hard to imagine a reason apart from blow jobs that I'm awake at 530 am.
Is it wrong that im more embaressed about the karoke than the toplessness?
The stoners next door have their couch on the sidewalk again, shirtless, soaking their feet in a baby pool and listening to loud ukulele music. I want their life.
Woke up next to a tiki torch spooning a plastic flamingo on a welcome mat i've never seen before with a "happy valentines day" balloon tied to my wrist, oh yeah and "i am a cougar" is written on my chest in sharpee and all the kitchen furniture is upside down...
I may have farted on a group of children. It may not have been an accident.
I want someone to sweep me off my feet and you want someone to fuck you on the kitchen table. They're both perfectly logical needs.
We did it in the bathroom in Taco Bell. We didn't buy anything before we left, which I thought was rude.
I drank butter last night, who am I to judge?
So yeah, don't be alarmed when you come home after work to find me eating cookie dough out of a margarita glass with a knife and watching The Little Mermaid. It's been one of those days.
It looks like a baby bear tried to chew off my nipples.
We can talk about your dick in my throat after a decision is made, this is my hair we're talking about. .. shit's important.
He was leaving the restaurant I was going to as I was parking. I didn't want to scream, "hey, didn't I jerk you off?" Out of my window at 10 am
I appreciate having someone to objectively critique my dick pics.
We're too hungover to prance.
She's eating hot cheetos out of the bag with chopsticks, Matt, how is she NOT my soulmate?
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