He just said "I made some changes in my life. The male g-spot is in the rectum and I wanted to explore that."
He sat on a barstool and did the robot for 3 hours - I'm pretty sure he enjoyed himself.
I can't believe I just compared my penis to a St. Bernard.
I just canoed to the bar. I am a skilled drunk paddler.
I'll wind up on his doorstep with a confused "oh you live here" expression, a feigned ankle injury and a seemingly fortunately placed bottle of tequila. I don't care what it takes: HIS MOUTH WILL BE ON MOUTH.
At one point I went looking for you and found you handcuffed to a chair. I'm pretty sure you handcuffed yourself. I don't know how you got there.
The cop told you to put your hands behind your back and you slurred "I'm not falling for that again"
My vagina loves me do-dah do-dah my vagina loves me do-dah do-dah
I picture you throwing your vagina around in the same fashion that they pass out candy at a parade.
DONT YOU DARE DIE YET THERE IS SO MUCH SEX TO BE HAD
So here's a brief summary of my weekend: last night I drank four glasses of Death Punch, grabbed the toaster, said "This is mine", put it in my pants and walked out the front door.
I woke up with your vibrator in my face
They kept freaking out that you were missing and potentially having sex.. like it was a bad thing. Got fed up with hearing it so i just yelled "ITS HER BIRTHDAY AND SHE CAN FUCK IF SHE WANTS TO!" They gave me unnecessary looks. I thought it was acceptable.
Say whatever the fuck you want about me, but leave my deceased cat out of it.
Being drunk at Chick-fil-A is a dystopian experience
There is a sex dungeon behind the wine cellar. This is why I hate showing foreclosures.
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