She wouldn't stop telling me the story of the penis and how she got laid.
Note to all middle aged "I totally let myself go after childbirth" frumpy mothers: I do not dress this way for your husbands. Stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault.
I fell alseep but then some dude picked me up. Comforter and all stuck a blunt in my mouth and carried me back downstairs because "I wasn't done partying"
She asked if you knew her boyfriend, and you responded that you "think you gave him head once" and then hiccupped.
As long as you're naked and covered in glow paint, I'm there.
I got to see some gay bartender let a girl with daddy issues whip Travis in the balls with his own belt. Totally worth it.
What we have is to special to throw away over a woman who spreads her butt cheeks on a pool table for me...
Just had sex to Jesse & the Rippers. Can check that one off the bucket list.
I think I'm going to call this chapter of my life story "Weekday day-drinking in the park isn't just for the homeless!"
May the power of my ass compel you!!
How about this: I support you through your miserable marriage, and you support me through all my anonymous sex?
Considering we're about to fuck, I really need your girlfriend to stop liking all my Facebook posts.
Maybe I'm not hungover. Maybe I'm actually dying.
I think I should've done my makeup before I took the acid. Because now I just feel silly looking at myself in the mirror
God does not give you boobs that amazing to not share them with your friends
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