Of course we end up in a gay bar... And I have to tell you there are some hot dudes here, should I pass around your Facebook?
I discovered the grieving process is shock, denial, anger...and then something about drinking until you puke on yourself
is the shake weight an appropriate valentine's day present?
I think you blew our chances when you yelled "YOU SLUTS COMING TO THE TITTIE BAR?" in their face
On a lighter note, my mom and I were playing scattergories, and for "things that you keep hidden" we both put dildo. Proof that we really are related.
I got back at him the only way I knew how, by hooking up with the guy he hates from their rival fraternity.
He was the one that got away. From my vagina.
Why we can't turn this into a healthy friendship where I cheat on my boyfriend with you and you feel better knowing everything wrong with my life is beyond me.
If I have to go to the hospital, at least put my pants back on. It's been a fantastic night.
This is Jewish guilt versus Irish Catholic guilt. We should tread carefully, or we could fuck up the space-time continuum or something.
I'm okay with that.
Honestly I'm not even that excited to see my boyfriend. I'm more excited to see his penis. His penis inside of me.
Just left a strip club where they let me on stage to teach them tricks. Time of my life!
We work out, have really intense sex, and then eat cereal marketed for children. We have a system, okay?
Only thing exciting about him was his dick.
I can't have the last guy who touched my vagina be my coworker.
Randomize
