So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
you got so mad from losing a game of beerpong that you went into another room by yourself and practiced for an hour and a half.
Come scavenge bits of tuna out of my chest hair
There is only one good excuse for how sore I am right now. And that is incredibly acrobatic sex. Unfortunately for me that is not my excuse.
It feels kinda weird thanking you for sucking my dick, but I just don't know what else to do right now
The only explanation I can think of is that he still likes me. Which gives me an enormous amount of power over him and makes me laugh with malicious intent.
i have an important question...can you drink in jail?
Who knew you could get a drunk in public when jogging with your dog?
My vag is like the Sahara
Ew that's gross.
The sad truth. Barren and empty.
Sometimes I actually rage on Tuesday, come back, and do homework drunk and pull an all nighter.
So how exactly do I backtrack from motorboating and ass grabbing?
I'm like an air traffic controller of women. It's a very similar job. Well spaced and gentle landings are good. When they meet, it's bad. Explosions bad. Dying screaming burning children bad.
I need to keep a secret stash of instant alcoholic margaritas for when i deal with people. For example, right now, im grading, and I just don't fucking care any more. My students should make a thank you card for Jose Cuervo.
My cat is staring at me while I drink my wine on the bathroom floor in the morning instead of attending class. Sorry mom and dad. Sorry cat.
breakfast this morning: omelette, Valium and baileys hot chocolate
Now that sounds like the breakfast of champions
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