he told us the story of how he fought ketchup, mustard, and thomas the train engine all in one night. if that doesn't sound like an acid trip i dont know what does.
I think i just got paid for sex with a hot pocket... and i accepted
I was scoping hash out of our weed jar with a spoon and I realized we need to buy actual utensils. This plastic shit is killing me I've broke 3 spoons
After a certain blood-alcohol level, the dog is in charge.
there's no excuse to just assume your pants won't be coming off for some reason or another. that's just irresponsible
Her throat is strong enough to gargle peanut butter. I'm sure you were satisfied.
you kept saying "i will not *breathe* regret this *breathe* in the morning *breathe* i just gotta remember *breathe* to BREATHE"
I'm trying to find a fanny pack so I can bring pizza on my run
Honestly, I want an afternoon of mild abuse, mixed with face fucking and general molestation that turns in love making, laughter and cinnamon toast crunch naked in bed.
the sex was good. her showing me pictures of her 4 year old daughter afterwards was not.
Life should not be this hard with a dick this big.
Facebook just reminded me of the time I found two IHop cheese sticks in my hand bag. Those were the days.
Interesting fact: if you wanted to rename a guy Jeff, just tell him you only fuck Jeffs. Magically whatever name he was using is actually his middle name cause he doesn't like going by Jeff.
I guess she found the pillow case full of vomit I hid last night: "Oh my God. Oh my God. In my fucking FRIDGE?! Really? Hope your dick falls off there's puke all over my food. Fucking die."
as i was trying not to drunkingly fall off her toliet, i noticed her socks laying there. i quickly grabbed them, ran upstairs, and excitingly asked her if she had gotten them at sams club. she replied with, "...those are your socks."
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