well thats why i like him. because he makes you happy. on the other hand i think he masturbates too much while texting you.
my bed looks and feels like i need to buy plan b.
you're like the Neil Armstrong of terrible hookups, you are a pioneer
We carried on a casual conversation about plants while I gave him a hand job.
Moment of the day: as we leave the restaurant, she reaches into my pocket, pulls out her panties, and angrily marches to her car. I felt like a sketchy magician.
Apparently from about 3-5AM I was consoling that crying stripper about her life choices.
It's not so much that I'm giving her money because I threw up on her floor. It's more like I'm paying her to never ever mention it again.
I basically have sex lined up for me in three different countries. If that's not a feat I don't know what is
You know, part of me wants to die and the other part of me doesn't want to live
I just figured out the time exactly by how many shots and beers that I've had since this morning. I either have a terrible problem, or a great solution.
Can you come get me? I woke up in the woods behind the Super 8. I have pizza.
That jawline could fucking have its way with me.
I was walking out of the bar when he said I'll see you later and I said I'll see you in my dreams and then fell face first and broke my nose
The neighbors ahemed the WHOLE time. Their kids are the ones that scream loud enough for me to remember my birth control. It's payback!
No offense, but I don’t think I would want to see him in anything skimpier than a hazmat suit.
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