Hey guys thanks for lettin me crash at your place for the weekend, I had a great time. PS I got three quarters of a hand job from an asian on the dance floor last night. True story.
Good. You are like the clit whisperer.
He threw up over the balcony and blamed it on an invisible garden gnome.
He was trying to put his hand up my shirt but I remembered the coke was stashed in my bra so I moved his hand to my pants
you were sitting on your bed looking out the window, rocking back and forth naked, saying how peaceful it looked outside
The bank teller laughed at me....I'm apparently that fucking hungover looking
All I wanted was my $85. Judgement free. But nooooo
I'm convinced my penis is the only thing holding this relationship together.
Is "when in doubt date the guy with the bigger dick" a good philosophy?
I faked an orgasm during phone sex last night. This relationship is starting to become real.
I told her the only thing I had going for me was my huge cock. She said she was willing to overlook my other shortcomings.
To drink from my fkask next to a cop car or to not drink from my flask next to a cop car
The impromptu 'dance party' was just three white dudes flailing arrhythmically in the kitchen in absolute silence. Stone cold sober.
He and I didn't so much date, as watch cartoons and go down on each other.
Unexpected pro of the hostel though: literally down the street from Coors Field. I could literally fart on the building in five minutes.
I texted him: “Come over for the Super Bowl. I promise lots of scoring.”
My divorce is turning into a porn script
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