Just spent the rest of my time at that bar trying to keep a probs underage closet gay from touching my kitten to prove he still likes girls.
I wonder if those guys know that i know that is a halfway house and dont just think it is some cool older guy frat house.
I want to fuck you on the side of the bed tonight.
babe, don't say it like that!
I'm sorry, I want to penetrate you on the edge of our sleeping quarters this evening.
Well, love is in the air. And by that I mean: it seriously smells like sex in here.
he told me i could have the honorable privilege of being the second girl to have sex with him in his new apartment, what a gentleman.
I'm hoping that by this time next year we will be smoking some weed at a gay wedding, asking "Mitt who?"
We poured some Korbel out for our homie Dick Clark.
hand jobs are a waste of time that only lead to arm cramps. Also, where do you look...his eyes, at the penis, at the tv?
yeah the "where to look" question is super awkward
Note to self: don't practice nerdy white girl dance choreography in the company bathrooms no matter how nice the huge mirrors and lighting are.
The squirrels are partying on my roof again. Now they're just rubbing it in that I'm home alone on a Saturday night and they're having orgies.
I couldn't do it. You can't break up after that many orgasms. It's physically impossible.
Last night I was introduced as the Picasso of getting fucked up so I obviously had to live up to it by chugging long islands
I never saw such an emotional argument over yellow vs. spicy mustard.
I felt like I was having sex with Joffrey from Game of Thrones. Needless to say how bad it was
i spent most of last night convincing myself that dan akroyd wasn't actually standing in my bathroom holding a dead chicken
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