You don't have to be emotionally available for a blow job.
I wasted my skinny years on you. The least you can do is high five me at the bar
I feel I need to conquer him. He's six ft eight and 265lbs. Its like the mount Everest of sex.
No one intentionally makes bad decisions, just errors in judgement. You have your boyfriend I have a restraining order from universal studios. It's all relative
Responsibility: Hiding your beer when your DWI clients who are out on bond come to talk to you at bars.
I feel like death gave me a hand job
I know he'd never cheat on me. It'd be like choosing Mexican tap water over Patron.
You flew out of the bedroom, stole two Solo cups from the beer pong table, put them on your feet, clicked your heels together three times
I think we r still a few steps from ex sex. In fact, that's never going to happen. I'm just saying on the seething-chemical-fire-of-emotional-distress-to-post -relationship-intercourse scale, I'm closer to fucking than throttling. Progress is fun.
Let me rub your butt and eat French fries from your mouth and dip them in your ketchup filled belly button.
For an hr, you were convinced you no longer had a right arm so you played Super Mario Bros with just your left hand vs Beth. You won btw, mite b why she refused to wear the unicorn head
Word to the wise, never look up your hot young doctors on Facebook before you're discharged. You will find things and no longer be able to take them seriously.
I found my wallet. Still have no idea when I put mad dog in my steel water bottle, though...
You proposed a left ass cheek firmness contest and got a surprising number of contestants. Then you ruined it by groping someone who wasn't playing and awarding them first place.
Fuck. I think I can already feel tomorrow's hangover. It's like future me cane back to warn present me about the impending doom but didn't turn the time dial back far enough.
Randomize
