So it's like pop-o-matic trouble, but with penises
I learned nothing from that class except drinking and chemistry go together great.
you puked out of a dead sleep and didnt wake up
Well fuck that. I mean, I made out with my cousin once. Who gives a fuck.
If I die I am blaming you for not answering to tell me the proper dosage of horse tranquilizers to take
That's why they call him "the cheesegrater".
I want to have a prehistoric party. By that, I mean I want to dress up as a dinosaur and get drunk. That's all I want in life.
You planned my entire going away party sitting in the bath tub cradling a bottle of Cuervo. You promised me fire jugglers. And a pinata.
Well at least he is okay. If you call the fetal position in my living room floor "okay"...
Getting a vibrator would be like waving the white flag of surrender in this war against my vagina and its hormone army.
I'm ordering a French maid costume for my dog too. It's like a couples costume, except for losers with dogs.
Seriously. We gorilla glued our hands together. Eating pizza last night was impossible.
bartering with my concussed boyfriend to eat food with blowjobs
doing the walk of shame back to your house in nothing but a bed sheet was definitely not one of my proudest moments..
He responded to all of my texts prodding for dirty talk with "I will do anything you are comfortable with."\n\nChivalry is great, but being comfortable doesn't get me wet.
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