I want to apologize 3 days in advance for what's about to take place on St. Patrick's day.
I was thinking of baby names while I was giving him a blow job
He called his prostate his "boner button".
He's. Duct. Taping. His. Phone. To. The. Wall.
You are number one in my heart. But in the dick Olympics you're disqualified.
Nothing like an alcohol-fueled, 6-hour-long hunt for weed--complete with occasional breaks for sex.
Ok, it's starting to sound like someone's out there trying to learn to play the trombone while breaking kitchenware.
I woke up surrounded by goldfish. Thank God my laptop was here too. Now I don't have to leave my bed all day.
I dressed up as a breathalyzer test for Halloween; never had so many straight dudes blow me before!
I may have just made our entire microwave glow green. Like big green. Like spark and make me shit green.
Like worse than the time I blew up the microwave with the egg green.
I don't go out. I live in my room watching Bridget Jones and thanking my vibrator for existing.
So far in 2016 I told someone id give them a blowjob for lasagna.
I'm gonna watch porn and nap. I think I really have this Valentine's Day thing down
I'm at a sex party and there's a guy in an ICP jersey and trip pants. I see now that this is the moment in the movie of my life I recognize I have a problem
And when were you going to tell me to stop dancing on his coffee table singing "come on irene?"
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