so...dinner was kid's cuisine and a bottle of wine. i think they go well together.
i called my brother from the living room and paid him a dollar to turn off the light in my room. ive hit rock bottom
I farted on Jack's balls last night. He got pissed and walked away cause he knew it was on purpose. I couldn't hold it in anymore.
Game over. He has a paternity test request on his table.
all i remember was you yelling "look at my little feet" at everyone on the way home from the bar.
It just gets louder and louder too...dear god. Her poor vagina.
Lesson of the night- sweaty dick can get stuck to ice, and require medical attention.
Apparently I yelled "no stop it" in my sleep last night when he tried to cuddle with me.
Oops, guess its official. I just use him for sex.
Would it be playing god to put spaghetti on my pizza?
This strip club is mediocre. Talent is fine. Fung shui is bad.
Current dream situation- Gordon Ramsey is my Uber driver and he's hauling around a backseat filled with chocolate covered açai berries. I'm good for eternity.
Thanks for the bagel and the sex.
Holding your hair back while you puked wasn't a choice. I was handcuffed to you.
So you can now add nose to my list of places that cum has gone that it shouldn't...
I'm gonna write a book entitled "when you give a cop a cookie..."
I don't even want to know.
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