This is some kinda fucked up sordid doggy brothel peepshow bullshit.
There's a man in a pair of gray footie pajamas and a paper crown watching the kids at the playground. It was easier to tell who was a pedophile before Where the Wild Things Are came out.
So basically our separate showers turned into one shower, to save water, which turned into a bath, which turned into sex on the bed, which turned into drinking beer in the bed, and thats what the stain is from... bud light. sorry.
Funny how often beer equates to second degree burns on some portion of my body.
Day 5 without masturbation. Fat chicks are back on the table
I was freaked out. No man over 50 is allowed to touch me. Ever. Unless you're Michael Bolton. Then please do.
I feel like I'm on let's make a deal. should I go with what's behind bulge number 1 or bulge number 2?
Romantic bubble bath turned into splash war. We can't be adults about anything.
you were trying to convince me that you weren't drunk by grabbing my shoulders, looking deeply into my eyes and saying "i can see your sparkle"
I was just laying in bed wondering if there's more important things in life than cheese stuffed pretzels.
I think pretend fucking a camel is a good thing to do downtown. They loved me.
He's saved in my phone as 'MURICA. I think it's safe to say I'm not exactly taking him seriously.
May or may not have just put tequila in my special "kids+" orange juice fortified with vitamins a, b, c, d, e, and now t.
I didn't even respond. Just letting the crazy settle before I calmly fuck his shit up.
Going through his web history. 10 hours ago he searched "how to put on condom with your teeth" I think I'm getting it tonight.
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