If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
So he didn't pull out. And I like flipped out. And the he told me to chill and opened up a drawer full of packs of Plan B and handed me one.......
He tried to use a signal flare to light the bong
And?
He melted the stem
I'll never be able to have sex on these sheets. I'd have to cover up the eyes of every single Elmo.
I hate cuddling. I also hate when people breathe. Which he did, a lot. So he can go to hell.
And tell the hostess not to worry, she's narcoleptic and fell asleep on the way to the bar, but she'll be fine in a few minutes.
Well his arms broken so they only cuffed his good wrist to his belt. That's how he cast smacked me in custody.
He tried to tell me that he could handle his liquor better than "all the bitches in this town." AS HE THREW UP. ALL. OVER.
Nothing shouts "I'm single" like a thousand needlepoint pillows.
his daughter has his phone and goesss ohhh boobies and shows me a picture of my own tits...
how does someone with a Masters Degree leave poop in an ashtray in the sink? It just blows my mind
I stared at him for a solid five minutes because he looked like what I imagine god would look like if god was a lumberjack
STOP TRYING TO FUCK MY DAD
THE HOT GUY IS YOUR DAD?!?!?!?!???
Couch. On fire.
Just do what I do and listen to your vagina. She’ll growl when she smells good dick
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