its like the voldemort of pregnancies, we don't talk about it
I should do something nice for her. Like sign her up for "What Not To Wear."
You kept referring to your penis as "this guy."
Fell down a spiral staircase. Et tu vodka. Et tu.
You were fucking on a porch at a party, not much privacy should be expected
I dont even remember coming home... All my stuff is strewn randomly around my apartment... And I woke up at 5 sitting propped up in my bed with just my arm in a shirt
Oh Brad. Your poor brain, always being ignored for your penis and crazy women.
i swear to god if you did anything to my honey bunches ill remove all the oats and shove them up your dickhole then play pinata with my foot to knock them all back out
Trying not to look at her chest is like trying to not hear a fire engine racing by.
I may or have may not just taken a swig out of a jar of alfedo sauce in my fridge. Dont judge me
I think there's an ice cream truck out back, but there's no way I can get pants on in time to catch it
If I had a mugshot, I would totally use it as my main picture on Tinder, just to keep it interesting.
he just fluffed my hair and told me I had to dance with him because we were both gingers.
Fly, little bird! Repopulate the ginger race!
I am the worst person to have nipple rings I'm hanging ornaments off of then and sending everyone a tits the season to be jolly
The angle I tried to shoot a load on her face was unfortunate. I accidentally came on the David Bowie tribute she had out. Oddly, that made it more erotic.
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