I like complaining with weaving words and complex sentences. It makes me seem more sophisticated and less bitchy.
apparently it's okay for him to stick his dick in my mouth but not to let me have a can of diet pepsi for the road.
I looked him in the face and asked if we could stop. he asked why. I said "I can't feel it.". ...I feel bad; I should have faked.
Urine might work for jellyfish stings, but we found out it doesn't work well for nose bleeds...
Left my card at the bar and had a drunk girl climb on the hood of my running car to scream at me.
Every fourth of July I get sentimental when I think back to the one where we drove around baked off our asses crashing multiple cookouts listening to Team America's "America, Fuck Yea" on repeat. I miss us.
I know that we've never been that tight but I want you to meet my cat before I move.
If I'm going to risk life and limb to wear a Wings jersey to the Garden next week, the least they can do is win.
And the most would be ending up in bed with one of them.
you know that moment when all the alcohol kicks in and suddenly you realize the bar is very loud and you just want to bite someone sexy and ride their face i am kinda at that moment
Great. I broke up with him before he could like my selfie, now I'm down a like.
he showed me his third nipple on the first date. I might have low to no standards, but my god.
What happens if you die with an erection? Does it stay hard? Disclaimer: I'm high.
The clothing optional portion of the night began around midnight. Then we did disgusting things to each other. It was beautiful.
The bar brought brought it upon themselves, they played billy joels piano man before closing, it's not our fault the bar isn't a bar anymore, right?
he went down on me and a few minutes later he asked to show me a magic trick. then he pulled a quarter out of my vagina
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