I was pretty stoned. I thought I needed a seatbelt at the restaurant.
Let me make this really simple. We woke up this morning and fucked three times. When I got up and took a shower she cleaned up the mess from last night and did the dishes. Then we went out and she bought me brunch. I don't give a FUCK how much you don't like her.
I can trace it back to that drunken night where we peed on each other in the shower.
you're like that jamaican tarat card reading chick... only with herpes
She bit me. She gave me a brief pity cuddle. I gave her an awkward backrub, somehow I thought it would be a good idea to include the vagina in that. It wasn't.
Sometimes I wonder if my parents know that I mean horny when I say lonely.
That's the only definition of lonely that I know.
Apparently while trying to get up from vomiting in the toilet I grabbed the seat cover for leverage and smashed my own head between it and the bowl. I don't remember this.
The realization of how permanent those tattoos really were set in this morning... I am SO sorry.
He showed up in a dinosaur costume bearing a tray of cupcakes. He even let me hold his tail. I'm marrying this guy.
I fail to see the problem of enjoying a glass of wine while I poop...
the point I'm tryimg to make is that you didn't need to take the whole box in with you
He kept telling me Te Amo last night. Over and over. And that he was scared. Drunkenly. In Spanish.
I have to tell him to stop eating me out so I'm not late for work; my life could be a lot worse.
Stop chatting and get in the fucking car. I didn't get my asexual ass out of bed just to watch you flirt and fail with someone you're never going to see again.
I am in no place to make rational decisions, but right now i want you inside me
yes we're having sex but I'm texting you...so what does that tell you?
Randomize
