So he ended up having sex with me, but it was so awkward. When it was over, he went to the bathroom, and he came back and asked, "are you on your period or something? there's blood on my dick..." and i said, "well it was supposed to start today, nice surprise...i am so embarrassed." and he said ,"it's better than you queefing." and as soon as he said that, i queef the hardest and loudest i ever had.
She's walking around topless with a bottle of red wine, crying and singing showtune ballads. This is actually an improvement.
Why do i even want him? It's like his dick is a trophy and I need to put it on my wall of shame.
Oh you don't have to buy a shower curtain, I stole the one from her bathroom. It has dolphins on it.
and lets be real... who can blow a middle school class's sunday school teacher and keep a straight face ever again? NOBODY.
wow, you never really realize how many muscles you have in your crotch until you pull them all.
Im calling him
was mistake calling. If you drunk dial someone you deserve to choke on a tubesock. Take the advice. Always remember
what i'd really like is a nice helping of naked boyfriend with a side of naked boyfriend.
I slapped him but he didn't wake up. He just nuzzled my head, hugged me closer, and smiled.
I feel badly that he has cancer, but this does not mean I am obligated to have sex with him. Again.
If your gig isn't over in 30 minutes I am coming on that stage to come on your dick.
if my uterus stops caving in on itself long enough for me to be alive I'm there
she's my really slutty friend i bring around so i can act slutty and not feel as bad about it
He broke through his window then signed his name on the biggest peice of glass from it. I think they framed it and named it 'best party ever'
I'll bring spiced rum
I am not drinking that devil juice
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