Listen: if you or anyone else at work finds a starfish in a bowl, just leave it. It'll be gone by next week.
Better yet, if you find it can you put it in the mini-fridge in your office for safe keeping? Spanks.
And if it's going to get me in trouble, maybe just don't mention that I know anything about it.
Anything that's based on a blow job I'm in favor of.
Don't feel too badly. Until twenty minutes ago my paper was a heading and a pizza order.
I don't hate you. My dick is upset with you, but I don't hate you.
It was literally like being eaten out by a dog. That bad.
So. She dumped me today.
Well, maybe you shouldn't have referred to going down on her as "Dumpster-Diving".
Besides the flaccid incident, it was decent. Average sized. So this is my life now. Loneliness and lackluster sex.
I hate being near you and not being able to do what I want. It's like a recovering alcoholic tending bar. I feel like Sam Malone. Except I can't bang the cute chick I work with.
The most humiliating part was that I farted while he was tasing me.
I would say that that is the last time I ever drink a bottle of jack in two hours, but really who am I kidding?
To be fair, this is a tequila-while-rewatching-Benedict-Cumberbatch-as-Van-Gogh idea, so I don't know if it will hold up tomorrow.
No I will not paint you for Mardi Gras in town. It is going to rain and you don't need another ID charge
Theres a handprint of sauce on my fridge, one on my face, and a trail of it leading to my bedroom, and sauce all in my bed, and I have no idea what the fuck i ate.
you're telling me you don't want to have sex 30,000 feet above the earth?
She's writing hockey erotica again.
Tell her to pick another team besides ours this time.
Randomize
