Well you will be happy to know that aaron carter hit on me
the guy I was hooking up with asked me if he could wear a guerilla suit during sex.
the only difference between me and a prostitute was that i complained a lot more.
his cum shot went directly into his bellybutton. felt like i was playin ski ball
his Mom's staying with him so he asked if I'd go over and fuck in his shed. he said "it's a really nice shed"
I just realized that I'm gonna have to lower my standards if I want random head.
you literally pushed me forward in the seat so you could puke behind my back without the cabbie noticing..
Im still alive. Just can't talk. Or move. No need to worry
I keep having to have that awkward "I don't want to have sex with you" convo. I thought wearing sweatpants was suppose to prevent this situation..
My mom is lecturing me about 'invaluable housekeeping skills' while I google 'cocktails involving gin' on my phone. I can feel the generational gap looming in her silent judgment of my choices.
But I just had this pork pâté. It was dick grabbing.
After the 3rd time his brother walked in on us I asked "Does he ever knock?" his reply "This is his room"... Turns out he didn't even live there... I feel like a hoe.
I just want a teacup pet pig so I can take him to parties with me and never have to walk home alone again.
Since Josh is going to be Carl Sagan for Halloween, he bought a turtleneck and sportsman jacket. It's all my nerd fantasies come true.
My hot gay tattoo artist grew a beard and I'm not taking it well.
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