how could I be having a bad time, I have the three most important things in life: Goat cheese, Xanax, and Saved By the Bell Re-runs.
FYI you just passed out mid-blow job. Consider this my letter of resignation.
Stop. He threw up in front of Madison Square Garden security. Spit at the guys feet and grunted ughhh at him.
Nothing says never again like hurling in the shower.
I was told my cock was a religious experience.
He never answered about passing his structures test no matter how I asked him. He did send a text saying that he would be "pouring alcohol into his head and balls" so I'm guessing he has to retake the whole class.
It was like a Thanksgiving meal, which you spend 8 hours cooking, and the family wolfs down in 20 minutes. All that flirting and build-up for like 90 seconds of pumping and he was gone in a flash, never to be heard from again.
Last night was so embarrassing. I got like almost blackout drunk and threw up in my hand and then blamed it on someone else.
My vagina needs her own mother sometimes.
We're going to brunch on Super Bowl Sunday. I am not a smart man.
This tequila is so bad I might cry. I won't Throw up but I might cry
His middle name is Julius so I named his penis Caesar and told him he has to say "Hail Caesar!" whenever he comes. He didn't seem to like the idea, though.
He took my Spanx off and still fucked me twice. I call that success.
I wanted to waterboard myself with beer, but no one would give me their shirt to do it.
I'm her ex, so unless you're interested in her massive moral failings and open season vagina, I'm not your guy.
Randomize
