if there is a rhyme for it it must be true
i never thought i'd have to say "please stop having sex on me"
wow.
yeah, it was that bad.
so later when i'm crying over him remind me that he once called his penis "senor weeper"
This last weekend single handedly took me off the liver transplant list
failed my one goal of the day: wake up before 2 pm.
Chick stood right next to me in the elevator. Like she had the whole elevator and she stood right next to me. So I farted.
I'm on his itunes. He has a sex playlist. It's actually not so much a playlist as 12 Kylie Minogue songs with a big gay Whitney finish.
You probably don't remember. You were drunk and getting your tits drummed on like haitian bongos in a voodoo ritual.
I went to grab his drink and my hand grazed his dick. It was magical.
You put Smirnoff in your grape juice and called it communion...
Im going to hell in a hand basket. With a ribbon tied to my head. I'll be like a puppy for the devil.
I texted him a series of texts in which the first letters of each text spelled out "WE SHOULD HAVE SEX". If that's not dedication to the dick, I don't know what is
I feel like I should remember what we did after leaving the party because apparently a llama was involved, but all I can manage is the part where I asked you to cuff my ankle to the bed so I wouldn't backflip away.
Btw I thought it was impossible to use up 48 bottles of patron in one night but I was wrong...
i looked at my texts in the morning and saw that i had a full conversation with myself via text thinking it was someone else. i rejected myself
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