I don't remember which guy I met at the bar is coming to pick me up. It will be like my birthday surprise.
My brain is officially off for summer until late august. If that guy wants to fuck me, he better do it soon.
At least it earned you a couple drinks. And something tells me you've touched grosser things with less incentive.
I feel like I shouldn't be doing my banking stoned. But I bought a new bowl. Her name is Sharpe. Pronounced Shar-Pay.
He ran headfirst into the atm. Thenasmed us what our spirit animals were...he said his was either a dolphin or a cabbage
Leaving someone plastered on a corner at 3am telling them to just scream for cock is NOT being a good wingman.
I'll still trying to understand the context of your "punch her with my cock" comment.
You thought your socks were broken. They were just inside out.
Just fucked in a kitchen. I never want my penis that close to knives, stoves, or blenders ever again.
Watermelon juice. Makes everything better. Gin. Wine. EVERYTHING.
If our sexual relationship was relative to the Harry Potter series, I would have claimed the Wizard's Cup at least ten times.
Being single/not living at home sucks. All I want is someone I can force to pick up my pizza for me so I don't have to talk to anyone.
When the strippers start dancing to Christmas songs it's time to get the fuck out!
you're no funn. i shall go consult my friend vodka on this matter.
congratulations on joining the accidental bisexual club
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