if my spotter knew I was listening to the Wicked soundtrack on my iPod, I wouldn't even be mad if he dropped the barbell on my throat
Holy mother of cocks. I was grind-with-my-boss drunk last night.
at 6am he came into my room and kicked me in the stomach. when i finally got up he was passed out in my hallway and the bathtub water was running
He chucked my pickle at the bouncer. Fucker, I wanted that.
Power hour was a bad idea. It turned into power 4 hours, then power puke. Then power sleep till 3.
i looked at my phone and realized all i had said to her the entire night was misspelled variations of "NOTHING IS THE SAME" over and over. she eventually stopped replying.
He only had napkins in the bathroom... no toilet paper. If I fuck him, am I settling?
Then he kept saying sentences and ending them all with "the point of no return" even if it didn't make sense, and kept telling this other guy he wouldn't be his "wife son"
I made my own utility belt like Batman. It has a cup holder for my beer, cell phone holder, a little pocket for condoms, and a sewing kit just in case.
She has the perfect pussy. Looks like a paper cut with a puff of cotton candy on top.
Also, thank you for letting me cry in your lap on the bathroom floor. I can't remember if I was clothed at that point, but if I wasn't, extra thank you.
right now I need to figure out a smart way to get an accurate picture of his dick so I know what in dealing with, right now in flying blind.
Why aren't you two playing Dora the explorer with each other's genitals yet?
Do you remember telling our cab driver you were going to fuck a penguin?
I don't know what to do about my nipple.
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