I think men at large are the problem in most or all relationships. It's like trying to drag a three-legged retarded puppy through an obstacle course
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
This is getting ridiculous. See/touch her boobs=good day. Not see/not touch her boobs=bad day. I am legitimately depressed over the lack of tits in my hands right now.
The pastor just stopped the sermon to lay hands on me. THAT hungover.
You slammed your forties down on the table and yelled "I AM EDWARD FORTYHANDS" then mumbled something about repping Idaho like a champ and laid down on the couch.
It was all going fine until I had to chug that strawberita bud light. That really ended badly.
It was awful. He had a wife
And now you've had a year of virgin penance. Absolve yourself.
It's no longer hooking up, we have definitely graduated to Sport Fucking....
Just realized I'm still chewing the same gum post blow job. This Stride shit really has everlasting flavor. They should totally have an ad campaign based on blow jobs.
Is there a polite/non-lush way to ask how alcohol ranks on their list of priorities? Because like idk how to break the ice furreal.
Your cock has been in the back of my throat. Co-worker is no longer a sufficient title. Fix that shit ASAP
Holy shit last night was like the irresponsible Olympics for me
2016 was supposed to be my year of being a ho, but I guess 2017 might be too.
This is the second time this month a hookup cried when I left...bro get your shit together bar does NOT equal wife 😬
I woke up while she was taking a panoramic photo of my morning wood
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