I can handle NPR. I speak hippie. I took it in college.
States back in the final four. Now our sunday night drinking has purpose. Sparty on baby.
at first i was worried but she assured me her frail vegan body would have no chance at conception.
If it wasn't obvious enough to the cops that she was drunk, she threw in, "I like the colors of the lights because it makes purple."
We call it lazy sex. We just lay next to each other and help each other masturbate. that way we can both be on bottom.
Now have a vodka water and get your shit together
In order of importance: Where am I? Where's my car? Where are my clothes? Who is this chick in the room?
Anne's couch, the bar, your car, Anne.
The number of people who end up getting laid as a result of the cha cha slide....is terrible.
Emoji's do wonders when you actually have nothing at all to say..
I'm only friends with her because I can't stop watching the train wreck.
He's a real gentleman. At least he tried to flush my closet's handle after he pissed in it.
How's moving going?
Uh, we're on the way to the store to buy more booze
My sister can't give you a handjob and us still be bros.
The progression was banging a stripper banging an unemployed stripper banging a sexual entrepreneur quarantining with benefits totally fucking whipped. Get it right dude
When I planned out my evening, "co-author lesbian vampire erotica" was not anywhere on my list of expected activities.
Me neither, but hey, this is where we've ended up. Let's embrace the moment.
Randomize
